So, Tell Me About Yourself
by AltoidRck
Summary: Yamamoto observes an unstable bond between his captains and vice captains.  He decides to be evi...uh, helpful and have days made where they do nothing but spend time together.  What will become of the Gotei 13?
1. Yamamoto's Sunny Sunday

A/n: This strange idea popped into my head weeks ago and I'm just now getting into words.

Disclaimer: I own no part of Bleach.

**Yamamoto's Sunny Sunday**

Yamamoto-Genryûsai Shigekuni was old, well yeah, that was obvious to everyone. But he was _old_, not old as in the milk's gone chunky or something like that, the dude was _ancient_. He has a beard so long it takes him thirty minutes every morning to_ braid _it, he was older than the gum that the Eleventh Division stuck on the Fourth Division walls, he was older than the sandwich that Kira had found under Ichimaru's bed, he was older than all the captains' ages combined. It was safe to say that Yamamoto-Genryûsai Shigekuni was really, really _old._

And yet, _never_, in all his centuries of being old, has he seen something like this.

During the recent ryoka invasions, he has noticed the special bond between his captains and assistant captains, or rather the..._lack... _of special bond.

At first, he told himself to leave it alone, it didn't matter what they felt towards each other, as long as they got things done and did their paperwork.

However as time passed on, he found he could simply not ignore the issue, because things were _not_ getting done and they were _not _doing the paperwork (Zaraki Kenpachi had even allowed a hollow to destroy an entire village because he was chasing after Kusajishi Yachiru who was chasing after a small dog thinking it was a dog-shaped manjuu).

So it was on this sunny Sunday morning (no pun intended), that he sat on his big comfy chair, looking thoughtful... or dead, and contemplated the predicament.

Why couldn't they all just get along anyway?

It would save him a lot more headaches, in fact as he thought about this more he started realizing that the only division that had a flawless captain-lieutenant relationship was the 5th, and that was only because their lieutenant _worshipped_ the ground Aizen walked on.

He got along perfectly with his own lieutenant, (what was the man's name again?), so why couldn't the rest of them as well?

A frown slowly appeared on his face as he suddenly reached into the right sleeve of his shihakushô. A small piece of paper was taken out and he slowly unfolded the parchment. Whatever was written on the paper, he spent several minutes reading it, before clearing his throat.

"Chôjirô Sasakibe." he stated in a confident voice.

"Yes, sir?"

If it hadn't been for that arthritis problem he had started developing the general might've jumped five feet into the air, when his lieutenant (_Chôjirô Sasakibe_) suddenly appeared at the threshold, the man had a strange knack for blending into the background.

Quickly stuffing the piece of paper back into his sleeve, he cleared his throat again, "Come in, _Chôjirô Sasakibe_."

Chôjirô Sasakibe came in.

"I have something I need you to do for me, _Chôjirô Sasakibe_."

Chôjirô nodded, "What is it, taichou?"

This time Yamamoto reached into the _left_ sleeve of his shihakushô. "Take this, and go to every division _Chôjirô Sasakibe_." he ordered, taking the object and holding it out for him. Chôjirô stepped up and took it, no, he was _not _wondering why his captain kept a camera in his robes.

"Take a picture of every captain and lieutenant," Yamamoto continued, "And hide your reiatsu well, don't let them detect you, _Chôjirô Sasakibe_."

Chôjirô nodded, bowing he stood up, he walked a few steps before turning around, "Um...excuse me, Taichou?"

"Yes, _Chôjirô Sasakibe_?"

"Why do you...never mind...nothing, sir."

"Good, now get going _Chôjirô Sasakibe_."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

A few shunpo later, Chôjirô found himself in front of the second division. Concealing his reiatsu like he was told, he snuck quietly to a window from the main office, where the voices of Soi Fong and Omaeda were coming out. 

"OMAEDA!! What are your rice cracker bags doing on my albums of Yoruichi-sama?!"

"Whaaaat? Oh, so that's where I put my stash. Thanks, Taichou!"

"_Omaeda...you..._"

Chôjirô winced, as the sound of glass breaking and a certain male howling went through the window. Gulping at the thought of getting caught in the crossfire, he scrambled up to take a quick picture before flash-stepping away.

* * *

Before he could even get there, one Kira Izuru's voice was heard. 

"YOU CAN DO IT, TAICHOU!! JUST _ONE_ MORE!!" the usually timid boy's voice was heard screaming enthusiastically (or was it hysterically?)

"But Izuuuruuu, this is soooo boooooring! We've been doing this forever!" Ichimaru Gin's lazy voice drawled from inside.

"TAICHOU, **JUST ONE MORE**! DO YOU REALIZE HOW CLOSE WE ARE TO FINISHING?! ONE MORE!! THAT'S RIGHT, LIFT UP THE BRUSH, AND SIGN YOUR NAME ON THE DOTTED LINE!! YES, YES, **YES**, THAT'S GOOD TAICHOU...!"

* * *

"I can't _believe_ those Eleventh division jerks!" he heard Kotetsu Isane huff, "Why do they like picking on us so much anyway?" 

The sound of a cup hitting the Fourth's wooden tables signaled Chôjirô that it was probably around Unohana's teatime.

"Try to be patient with them Isane." Unohana's serene voice advised.

"I try _a lot_. Just yesterday I tried very politely to tell some of those Eleventh that sake was prohibited inside the relief stations and what do they do? They drug all the food with alcohol!"

"Oh?" Unohana inquired curiously.

"Yes, we spent almost the whole day trying to calm down all the patients!"

"Who were those Eleventh members?"

"And they had the nerve to deny their crime...what, ma'am?"

"Their names. I would like to know those Eleventh men's names, please."

"Oh...uh...Mori Hideki, Kitano Masayuki, and Hirota Kisame I think it was."

"I see, well I suppose I'll have to drop by and give them a little lecture."

"A...little lecture, ma'am?"

"That's right, perhaps a bit of discipline as well."

Chôjirô agreed quite kindly to the frightful squeak that her poor assistant had managed to regurgitate, he quickly took a picture and sprinted off.

* * *

"Here you go, Aizen-taichou! I finally got that book you wanted!" 

"Thank you, Hinamori-kun. Who would I be without you?"

"Oh no, I'm sure you would be just as great of a captain as you are now! You're amazing Aizen-taichou!"

He heard Aizen chuckle, "Why thank you again, Hinamori-kun."

A pause.

"I...uh...apologize for returning so late with it. You must've gotten impatient." The girl coyly said.

"What? No, not at all. I didn't mind waiting."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, since the next thing he knew, Chôjirô was almost blown into a nearby tree, when Hinamori Momo suddenly went into full-power sobbing.

"Oh, Aizen-taichou! I'm so sorry about my uselessness! I (sniff) don't (sniff) want (sniff) to be a burden to you!"

"There, there," Aizen soothed, "You don't have to apologize."

"And that's another thing! All I ever do is apologize! I want to do MORE!!" Hinamori wailed, and Chôjirô could hear a few of the 5th division shinigami cautiously approaching. Chôjirô blinked, a little overwhelmed by the sudden mood swing, but snapped a picture while they were both preoccupied.

* * *

Chôjirô almost broke his neck on his way to the 6th division. He had shunpoed from roof to roof, but a quite disconcerting 'HOLY SHIT' had knocked him completely off balance, thus losing his footing and nearly his life. 

At that point, the 1st division lieutenant was _so_ tempted to just skip the 6th division, but then he thought about his captain and the zanpakuto he had, and how much it would _suck_ to get burned into ashes just because he decided to skip sixth.

"Oh my god, Taichou I am SO sorry!"

"..."

"Um...you've got a little grass tangled in your hair."

"Remove your hand from my head."

"Er...yeah...look, I'm really, really sorry! I didn't mean to do that, the look on your face is saying I did that on purpose, but I didn't! I swear, I had really seriously intended to move _pass _you not on you! And that floor crack...heh...we really gotta get that fixed..."

"Renji."

"Please don't kill me!"

"I will consider it later, bring me a towel..."

* * *

"You must understand Tetsuzaemon, that all living things deserve a place in this world." 

"Eh...yes, sir."

"Every breathing speck of life, so long as they are alive, deserves a chance."

"Eh...yes, sir."

"Discrimination should not be submitted to those that are different than us...hold your foot up with your hand, so the other one can move freely."

"Like this?"

"Not quite. Anyway, it does not matter what they are, who they are...or what they look like, every being should be given the opportunity to prove their worth."

Some heavy grunting was heard in the background, as Iba seemed to be having a hard time with whatever he was doing.

"Yes, and every possibility, should be given to them!" Komamura continued, getting fired up.

"So what if they're a fox spirit, as long as they have what it takes, they should be permitted the rights of any normal human soul!"

Some more grunting and a crash this time, while Komamura prattled on.

* * *

"Nanao-chan! Lovely, lovely, Nanao-chan! Kawaii, kawaii, Nanao-chan!" Kyoraku Shunsui was calling in a singsong voice. Even when Chôjirô couldn't see him, he could just imagine the flamboyant captain in his colorful haori, as he floated down the hall to harass his lieutenant. 

"Nanao-chan, you can't hide forever! You know we were meant to---"

Crunch.

Chôjirô almost leaked out some of his reiatsu at the sharp noise. It sounded like Ise Nanao had just stomped on her captain's foot.

"Oh, Nanao-chan, there you are!" Shunsui exclaimed happily, seemingly showing no reaction whatsoever to the grievous injury she had just inflicted on his foot.

"You need me for something, Taichou?" Her voice kind of sounded like, 'It better be important or I'm going to suffocate you.'

"Ah yes, Nanao-chan, I've been having a terrible dilemma lately," Shunsui said, tone suddenly sorrowful.

Ise Nanao was heard sighing exasperatedly, "And what might that be?"

A long moment of silence, then...

"No matter where I look, I can't seem to find any X-ray kidou spells! Nanao-chan, could you help me?"

It was no surprise to Chôjirô when a certain sound reached his ears, Shunsui was practically _asking_ for it.

* * *

"No, Hisagi. Replace the subject in sentence four with justice." 

"Yes, sir."

"And sentence five with bloodshed."

"Yes, sir."

"Good, now read it to me."

"...But sir, I haven't wrote anything."

"Did I not tell you to start writing down my speech?"

"...No, sir."

"Oh...well then, get to it."

"...Yes sir." The rustling of paper and a brush striking it.

* * *

Chôjirô landed next to the window of the 10th division office wit a sigh of relief. Though it was pretty amusing to watch all the different divisions and their interactions with each other, he was still happy that he only had three more division left after 10th. He pressed his ear against the wall below the window and listened hard. 

"Matsumoto, I will not ask again. _Do_ the paperwork."

"Aw Taichou, you're so cute when you're angry!"

"_You idiot..._"

"You try to be level-headed, but you lose your temper so quickly! It's ADORABLE!" a couple of girlish squeals of delight.

"_Matsumoto_..."

"In fact it's almost like how Gin use to act, but instead of getting mad, he'd start hyperventilating! Did you know the first time I got my period, he freaked and dragged me through half of Rukongai!"

"MATSUMOTO, GET OFF YOU'RE LAZY ASS AND DO THE FRICKIN' PAPERWORK!"

A moment of silence then...

"Kyaa! You're soooo _cute_, Taichou! I can't stand it!"

"Wait...! What are you doing? Get away from me--hmpf!"

"Fuzzy, fuzzy Taichou! White cuddly Taichou!" Rangiku was chanting, and Chôjirô could just barely hear Hitsugaya Toushirou's very smothered protests.

* * *

Chôjirô wanted to skip 11th division. Though he has never encountered eleventh members very much, because his own unit was so far away, Chôjirô has heard stories. Stories about brutish, violent, wild, and incredibly stupid men that had an incurable fetish for battle. 

In fact, he had already flash-stepped pass 11th division, when his Captain's zanpakuto crawled into his mind again. At that thought, he quickly turned heel and sped back to the eleventh office. After all, it was his duty to follow the orders of his captain (especially if his captain was commander-general and wielded a sword that could turn _shadows_ into ash, never mind skin, flesh, and bones).

"Ken-chaaaan!!"

"What?"

"Ken-chan, Baldie-chan's head is bleeding!"

"Again?"

"Yep, it looked so shiny, maybe I bit a _little_ too hard."

"Is he dead?"

"Dunno, he smashed his face into the ground and when Eyebrow-chan kicked him, he didn't move."

"Geez, yer such a pain in the ass."

Whether it was because the two spoke of disturbing things in such a casual way or because he saw that the wall he was leaning against started crumbling, he nearly forgot to take a picture before hauling butt out.

* * *

He approached 12th with utter care (really, wearing a white cape while on a stealth mission had to be the dumbest thing he's ever done). Noiseless, he toed around suspicious puddles of goop and flattened himself against the once white division wall (the white was now splattered with ambiguously colored stains, that he avoided touching). 

"Day 72: Subject showing erratic growth of facial hair, I---Nemu! You idiot, where is the special formula that I had prepared!"

"You said you would take of it yourself, Mayuri-sama."

"What!" a rummaging sound came from inside, "Well, don't just stand there! Help me look, you imbecile!"

"Yes, Mayuri-sama."

More rummaging and slamming of doors, and Chôjirô heard a faint muffled voice that seemed to be screaming for help.

* * *

"Taichou, please wipe your illustrious nose on my sleeve!" 

Kotetsu Kiyone gasped, "That's unfair Kotsubaki! Here Taichou, wipe on my gloves! You can have both!"

"Kiyone, you bastard!"

"Shut up, goatee monkey!"

"Now, now, I don't think any of that is necessary. If either of you have a handkerchief, it would be most appreciated." Ukitake's strangely nasal voice calmed them.

"Oh, Taichou! I apologize for being so incompetent as to forget to have a hanky on hand, in case you may sneeze, please punish me!"

"Sentarou, there's no need to start crying..."

"Taichou, I am the same! Feel free to punish me as well!"

"Why would I...?"

"Hmph! Taichou, you can chop off my arms and hang me on the ceiling by my tongue!"

"..."

"Well, Taichou you can slash me into little bits and make me clean up the blood with my own toothbrush!"

"...that's disgusting."

"You booger-eating, _booger_! Stop copying me!"

"Shut the hell up, you armpit smelling goat!"

"...all I want is a handkerchief."

* * *

Having gotten all the pictures that were required, Chôjirô headed back to his own division. However, when he got there he found his Captain drooped in his seat, snoring like a chainsaw. 

Quite use to these situations by now, Chôjirô calmly stepped up to him and produced an alarm clock from his own shihakushô sleeve. Winding it, he held it right in front of his Captain's ear.

It exploded and his Captain woke up, "Children should eat three meals a day!" Yamamoto shouted, snapping his eyes open.

Chôjirô coughed politely, not even in a vague sense wanting to know what the old man had been dreaming about, "Sir, I have returned with the pictures."

Yamamoto stared at him, his face twisting as he seemed to try to remember something. "Oh...oh yes, those pictures. Good work, _Chôjirô Sasakibe_. Now go get them developed!"

_(A few trivial minutes later of getting the pictures developed and such...)_

"You may leave now, _Chôjirô Sasakibe_." Yamamoto said absently, staring at the manila envelope like it was the most beautiful thing on Earth.

Chôjirô bowed, and stepped out.

Yamamoto's old gangly hands ripped the envelope open hungrily, and started looking through photos.

In the first picture, a livid Soi Fong had just smashed a very expensive vase over her lieutenant's head, as Marechiyo Omaeda spewed half-chewed crackers into the air at the ornament's contact with his cranium. (He'd really have to explain to her, how they couldn't keep spending money refurbishing her room, because she wanted to see how much pressure it would take to crack open her assistant's skull).

The next one showed Ichimaru Gin doing a face-plant on his desk, while he hovered his ink brush teasingly right above the signature line. Kira Izuru was crying tears of happiness and hysteria, it was too bad Yamamoto would have to wait for Paperwork Day to see if Ichimaru had signed or not.

In the Fourth Division picture, Kotetsu Isane was hiding behind a lawn chair, as Unohana Retsu sipped tea in her usual composed manner. (He didn't know what had occurred, but he was pretty sure the inky black, DOOM, DOOM aura that surrounded the female captain had something to do with it).

His eyebrow would've disappeared into his hair if he had any, at the sight of 5th division. _So _this_ is what they do behind closed doors. _Hinamori Momo had heard mouth wide open, like she was in the middle of a wail, while Aizen Sosuke had a tranquil smile on as he supplied her with tissues.

A chuckle escaped his lips before he realized it at the sight of 6th division. Kuchiki Byakuya sat at his desk--stony silent as ever--only he looked much less intimidating soaked completely with water and was that grass in his hair? Abarai Renji stood at one side, sweating like a pig and his arms were held up defensively as if he expected Byakuya to lash out at him any second.

In the next photograph, Komamura Sajin seemed in the middle of saying something, with a big fist pumped in the air, but one couldn't really tell since he had such an elaborate mask on (It was all in the guy's head, really). Over in a corner, he spotted Tetsuzaemon Iba apparently trying to do the Lotus position and apparently failing at it. The lieutenant was in mid-fall, his arms waving around, because he had just kicked himself in the face, if that was even possible.

Yamamoto didn't even bother to stifle his laughter at the next picture. It looked like Ise Nanao's knee had just entered somewhere it should not have entered. The Commander-General jokingly wondered if he should be nicer to Shunsui at the next few meetings. He thought about it for all of two seconds before shaking his head, but the look on his old student's face was _priceless_. He always knew the boy would get it one day for being such a pervert.

The 9th photo actually looked pretty normal. Hisagi Shuuhei was writing something, while his captain, Tousen Kaname watched him. This disappointed Yamamoto slightly, but he as he looked closer he could tell that Hisagi's left eye was twitching, and Tousen looked like he was about to yawn.

For the 10th division picture, Yamamoto allowed himself a pat on the back at his extraordinary assignment skills. Who else to be partnered with buxom Matsumoto Rangiku, but hormone less Hitsugaya Toushiro? Why, if it had been any other boy being swung around with their face crammed between her bosom, they'd most likely die of blood loss!

Nothing went through his mind for the 11th. A motionless Madarame Ikkaku with his bald head gushing blood, a nonchalant Ayasegawa Yumichika, an annoyed Zaraki Kenpachi, and a cheerful Kusajishi Yachiru as she doodled on Ikkaku's head with his own blood--it was all self-explanatory.

It took him several minutes to figure out what was going on in 12th. Why the hell were Kurotsuchi and his abused daughter sticking their butts out at him? Evidently, it would seem those two were looking for something, within the closets their heads disappeared into. Yamamoto wasn't sure, but it _might've_ had something to do with bound and gagged victim that was strapped to a lab table in a far corner of the room. The poor man's beard was almost as long as his, and his eyes were wide and glossy--a clear sign of heavy trauma.

At last, he had gotten to his other student, Ukitake Juushiro's division. His two third seats were fighting again, Kiyone's eyes looked ready to roll out of her sockets and Sentarou seemed to have burst a vein. In the immediate background Yamamoto saw his student observing them warily with a hand cupped over his nose (Did he get a nose bleed?)

After looking at the last picture and shuffling through the rest of them a couple of times, Yamamoto quietly put the photos back into the envelope. Standing up and ignoring all the odd little pops that went with the action, Yamamoto stepped over to his desk, with envelope in hand, and placed it on the table like he was handling an infant.

Then, he quietly made his way back to his chair. But before he could even sit down, he collapsed onto the floor in a fit of snorts and guffaws.

He laughed so hard he almost choked on his own saliva, totally out of character. Then, as quickly as he began, he stopped. Picking himself up from the floor and smoothing down his robe, he seated himself back onto his chair.

Yamamoto stared at the envelope that lay on his desk. Something had to be done.

* * *

Yes! First chapter finished! Man, this is long! 

What does everyone think? If any of you don't get the whole _Chôjirô Sasakibe_ thing, just wait till next chapter and you'll find out.

Review please; this is only my second fic and my first try at humor, so it's not gonna be perfect. Oh, and the ryoka I'm talking about isn't Ichigo-tachi, just some random ryoka.


	2. The Sunday Evening

A/n: Thank you for reviewing! Here's the next chapter! Sorry it's not as long, but I had to get this out of the way.

Disclaimer: Bleach doesn't belong to me and sadly never will.

**The Sunday Evening**

That evening, when the crimson sun was just getting ready to switch shifts with the pale moon, all captains would receive an urgent message that informed them of an emergency meeting.

"Thank you all for gathering here so swiftly." Yamamoto began, and gestured at the chairs around him, "Please sit."

Eleven shinigami (excluding Tousen) stared.

The usually sparse meeting room was almost cramp with the giant oak table that had been put in.

"How'd he even get this thing in here?" Hitsugaya mumbled, taking a seat.

"This must be something pretty important for Yama-jii to bring out the furniture." Shunsui whispered, sitting down next to the prodigy.

"Now, I shall tell you what you have been called here for," Yamamoto said, as soon as everyone had taken their seats, "We are here to discuss you're cooperation levels with your lieutenants. I have observed that most of your relationships are all lacking in some area."

Yamamoto raised a hand to silence them, when he saw most of their mouths opening, "So I have made twelve days, one for each of you. You will dedicate your day to nothing but getting to know your assistants better. I have already sent someone to brief all of them on this and--"

Throwing formalities out the window, the room erupted into half and half of denial and acceptance.

Never had Hitsugaya looked so desperate, "Soutaichou, you're giving me a death sentence! I'll die of asphyxiation!"

Shunsui was on Cloud Nine, "Nanao-chan. For the _whole_ day..." a bit of drool ran down his chin.

Byakuya, who was sitting next to him, gave the man a disgusted look and scooted away slightly, "I refuse to bond with that clumsy buffoon."

"There is no way I'm going to spend all my time with Omaeda. There's just no way."

"How marvelous, I wonder what Hinamori-kun would like to do."

"I see no wrong in this." Komamura and Tousen commented together.

"This ain't no shitty counselor class! I'm not about ta put on some frilly dress and sit through Yachiru's tea party!" Kenpachi exploded.

"What an excellent opportunity. I've been meaning to spend some time with Isane."

"Whoo! Izuru and I are goin' ta have _so much _FUN!" Gin exclaimed happily, squirming in his seat.

"Their fights really give me headaches. Maybe this can help them get along better." Ukitake told himself, always looking at the optimistic side of things.

"This is an outrage! I refuse! She's my _daughter_! What is there to learn about that idiot?!" Mayuri shrieked indignantly.

"SILENCE!" Yamamoto shouted at the top of his lungs.

The captains froze, and stared at their leader.

"Clearly," Yamamoto sighed, a little pissed off at their immaturity, "You seem to have the delusion that I care about your opinions. I didn't think I'd have to do this but..." his hand disappeared into his haori and a moment later, produced a _very_ familiar manila envelope.

_A few seconds of distributing later..._

"When did you take this?" They all asked simultaneously.

"Isn't it obvious? Yesterday."

Byakuya took one look at his photo and shredded it into pieces, as did Shunsui, Mayuri, and Hitsugaya.

"Destroy them all you want, I've made copies," Yamamoto said patiently, "Now, do you all understand? In times of emergency Seireitei will heavily rely on your partnerships. You, as the superiors need to swallow some pride and engage the first step."

Suddenly, a question struck Ukitake, "Genryûsai Shigekuni-sensei, how come _you're _not doing it?"

A series of murmurs went through them and then some accusatory glares were shot at him.

Yamamoto smiled, he was prepared, "I already have a strong bond with my vice-captain."

A wave of snorts and guffaws rippled through the twelve.

"I know his name."

A wave of gasps and cries of disbelief.

"_Chôjirô Sasakibe_." he stated proudly, and couldn't help smiling even wider at the many 'dying fish' expressions he got, even Unohana and Aizen were perturbed.

Nobody could argue with _that_.

"Now, I have to add the conditions," Yamamoto continued, ignoring the groans he got from the majority of them, "To make sure none of you disregard this order, you will all have to come back next Saturday and tell me one new thing that you have learned about your lieutenant. Don't even _try_ to just ask them, because I can tell the difference." he gave them his best 'I'm Watching You' look, "Understood?"

Gin, Shunsui, Unohana, Aizen, Komamura, Tousen, and Ukitake nodded immediately.

It took a three-minute staring contest to get the other five to agree.

"Excellent, it's good to know you're all so mature about this," Yamamoto said sarcastically, eyeing the five, "Now, we shall be assigning your days."

He bent down under the table and everyone tried to keep a straight face on while a series of pops and cracks ensued like music (Shunsui was nodding his head to it, while Gin looked like he was going to break out dancing any second).

Thankfully, they were all spared that as Yamamoto resurfaced with a shabby tattered old hat. "Each of you will reach in at random and pull out a number. Whatever number you get will be the day you are assigned."

It took more than twenty minutes for all of them to get their numbers. Shunsui kept trying to peek, Kenpachi had grabbed four together by accident, which then set Mayuri off, so they had to take a few minutes for Yamamoto to shuffle them all again (which was really just swirling his hand around a few times in the hat), Gin had taken the most of the time feeling every single card, because he insisted that he could tell the numbers apart by their texture.

"Alright, now that you all have a number," Yamamoto directed his eyes at each and every one of them, while the captains stared at their face-down slips of paper with anticipating gazes, "Flip!"

There was a lot of banging upon the table, as most of them felt the need to slam down their papers face up as hard as they could (the table almost collapsed when Kenpachi had turned his over).

"Call them out." Yamamoto ordered.

Soi Fong stared at her number, "Four. Not exactly number one, but too close for my liking."

Aizen pushed his glasses up a little, "Number eight."

Gin smiled unhappily at his number. "Five?! But that's...like...almost halfway to twelve!"

Byakuya looked at his slip blankly; his coal eyes a world of indifference, "Eleven." though on the inside he was giggling like a kid on Christmas morning.

Unohana smoothed her paper out, "Number six, what a pleasant number."

Komamura didn't really care where his placement was, "Twelve." But apparently, by the looks of envy being sent his way, his comrades did.

Mayuri smirked, "Ten."

Tousen tapped Komamura's shoulder, "Oh, sorry. Uh...you're number seven, Tousen."

"I am number seven." he repeated to Yamamoto, as if he hadn't already heard it.

Kenpachi glared at his number menacingly, like it was going to change right before his eyes. "Fuckin' three!" he spat, he was going to kill Mayuri later for laughing.

Shunsui looked like he was about to cry, "Yama-jii, I can't be separated from Nanao-chan for eight days!" he whined.

"Shunsui is number nine." Yamamoto said matter-of-factly, ignoring him.

"Two." Ukitake said uneasily, earning him many stares.

"Well then, it seems like we have found number one." Yamamoto said, beaming, really starting to enjoy things, "Congratulations, Hitsugaya-taichou."

All heads slowly turned towards the petrified little captain.

Hitsugaya had gone into shock, with his mouth agape and pupils diluted.

"Heh, looks like the genius is in denial." Kenpachi snickered, leaning across and poking his forehead. Hitsugaya followed the motion and then bounced back forward again.

"Hey, cool! He's like a rockin' chair!" Kenpachi cried, prodding him again.

"I wanna try!" Gin suddenly exclaimed, and scrambled out of his seat before anyone could say anything.

Aizen got out of his own seat and walked over, "There, there, Hitsugaya-taichou," he patted his arm, since his hands were still clenched around the bane of his existence, "I'm sure you and Rangiku-san will have a wonderful time together."

"Yeah! I don't know if you've noticed or not Toushiro-kun, but Ran-chan's _quite_ a looker. You two could have some..._real fun_." Shunsui winked, gesturing at his chest for emphasis.

"Kyoraku!" Ukitake yelled incredulously, leaning over with Sogyo no Kotowari and whacking his friend on the head with the hilt, "He's just a boy! Don't tell him stuff like that!" he said sternly, kind of mad that he was trying to corrupt his fellow Shiro-chan.

Shunsui rubbed his head, "But Juu-chan! I think he already knows anyway! Since he spends so much time in there..."

Hitsugaya shuddered violently at his words.

"Ukitake-taichou is right Kyoraku-taichou," Unohana intoned disapprovingly, suddenly materializing next to Shunsui, "A boy his age should not be told such things."

By now, the people not involved had already taken refuge at the back of the room.

For a moment, all Hitsugaya could do was mouth wordlessly while Kenpachi and Gin took turns poking him not-too-gently on the forehead, Aizen uttered words of comfort and encouragement, while continuously patting his arm, and Ukitake, Shunsui, and Unohana argued over his puberty process.

It was only after the numbness from the shock had worn off and the ominous foreboding feeling settled in that he could find his voice.

"**NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**...!"

* * *

Rangiku sat on the couch snacking on chips, for once not gulping down sake. It had only been a few hours ago, when a figure had suddenly burst into her bedroom, wielding some sort of tube and shouting her name repeatedly. 

On pure instinct, she had grabbed the nearest available weapon (her lamp) and started attacking him relentlessly with it. Only after she had knocked him out (and possibly fractured his skull) did she recognize him by his uniform as a special messenger and the 'tube' as a scroll.

Needless to say, she was more than thrilled. Munching stimulatingly, she was just reaching for her third bag, when the office door slid open.

"Taichou!" Rangiku got up excitedly, dusting herself off a little, "You're back!"

"I'm back." Hitsugaya agreed dazedly, too out of it to be annoyed when he was dragged by the arm and pretty much thrown onto the couch.

"I heard about everything!" Rangiku continued, plopping down next to him, which sent her Captain four inches into the air, "These twelve days are going to be so great!" Just the prospect of zero paperwork was enough to make her squeal...of course, she couldn't wait to spend time with her adorable little captain either.

"Yeah...great." Hitsugaya agreed, collapsing into the back of his cushion.

There was a moment of silence where Rangiku gazed at her Captain eagerly and Hitsugaya stared at the Main Office ceiling.

"Well?" Rangiku finally pressed.

"Well what?"

Rangiku sighed dramatically as if it happened all the time, "What's your number Taichou?"

Blank stare.

"My...number?"

"Yes."

"Oh...one."

Silence.

"My apologies, I don't think I heard you correctly. Did you say you're number one?" Rangiku asked, this time cupping a hand over her ear to reassure herself.

"Yes...yes I did." Hitsugaya's voice strained, as he painstakingly started accepting it.

"...I see." Rangiku said, folding her hands in her lap solemnly.

Then...

"OHMYGOD, TAICHOU! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! THIS IS INCREDIBLE!!" Rangiku screamed, knocking over her half-finished bag, chips scattered onto the couch, but Rangiku paid them no mind.

Reaching out with one hand she grabbed her captain and smashed him once again into her chest. "A WHOLE DAY, JUST YOU AND ME!!" she twirled around the room with his limp body in a firm grip between her gigantic assets.

Hitsugaya was slowly starting to wonder why he never tried to bite his lieutenant whenever she put him in such a position when he was suddenly set down again.

"I wonder what we should do tomorrow?" Rangiku asked herself bemusedly, a finger tipped on her chin as she thought.

At the mention of the next day's activities, Hitsugaya immediately jolted from his trance-like state, "Hold on! We're not going anywhere you can flaunt yourself with, so just forget that right now!"

Rangiku feigned an innocent expression, "Why Taichou, you don't think I'm that kind of person do you?"

Hitsugaya turned his head to glare at a wall, "Yes I do."

"Okay then," Rangiku said, her eyes narrowing slyly, "So what you're saying is, we can go to a place where we _have_ to flaunt ourselves?"

"Exactly." Hitsugaya nodded, when he suddenly realized what her question had been.

"I mean, no! No! What are you talking--"

"Thank you so much for clearing that up, Taichou!"

"Matsumoto wait, that's not what I--"

"Well now, I better go get some sleep! You better get some too Taichou, I wouldn't want you to be all sleepy tomorrow!" Rangiku interrupted, already at the doorway.

"Matsumoto! Get back here! I'm not fini--"

"Good night!" she called, and her footsteps were heard tearing down the hallway.

Now alone in the office, Hitsugaya stared after her, his left eye twitching uncontrollably.

"THAT IDIOT!!" Hitsugaya exploded, sulkily flopping back onto the couch, purposefully ignoring all the crunches he heard when he shattered the helpless chips.

Inspecting the bags on the coffee table for a second, he reached out and snatched one. Ripping it open viciously, he grabbed five chips, stuffed them into his mouth and chewed violently. When he finished, he grabbed another five, and repeated the process, filling every bite with his spiteful rage.

Mouth full, he glared at the crescent moon, daring it to set.

He was going to _hate_ tomorrow.

* * *

I'm so happy everyone got the _Chôjirô Sasakibe_ thing! Now I don't have to explain it! 


	3. Hitsugaya's Easygoing Monday

A/n: Alright, Hitsu-chan first! I'm sorry I'm updating so late, but my computer's from the Stone Age and broke down for three days. Enjoy and review!

Disclaimer: Bleach isn't mine.

**Hitsugaya's Easy-going Monday**

Truth be told, Hitsugaya has never believed in karma. It was kind of stupid to him really. The first time he heard of it, he thought it was some type of candy.

However, sometimes he can't help wondering if he had done something terrible in his previous life, wondered if he was being punished for it. The clues were everywhere.

First it was his height (people acted like they'd never seen anything under five feet), then it was his hair (what was wrong with it? It was white, like snow or bird poop), Ukitake (that was a _major_ problem), and last but not least was how he ended up sitting in a hot spring next to his bubbly vice-captain, clad in nothing but a flimsy towel.

Karma was becoming more and more believable by the minute.

"Don't look so grumpy, Taichou," Rangiku drawled, spreading her arms and closing her eyes, "You'll only tempt them further."

Hitsugaya glanced uneasily at the women who sat on the other side of the bath, "Why the hell are we at the Onsen anyway?" he asked, slightly unnerved by the way the women looked like they were going to dog pile him any minute.

He tightened the towel on his waist.

"You said we could come here last night, if this wasn't what you wanted then you should've said something." she replied absently, adjusting the towel on her head.

Hitsugaya's left eye started twitching, "First, you didn't let me _finish_ last night, and second, I _couldn't _say anything because you threw me over your shoulder and did shunpo all the way over here."

Rangiku cocked her head curiously, "Oh? Was that how it happened?"

Yeah, Hitsugaya hated karma, and he would have no choice, but to kill their Commander-General later, causing his next life to be even worse. It was a never-ending cycle of punishment.

Look at him now, these pedophile women were leering at him, he was in a towel, his lieutenant was talking to her assets, these pedophile women were leering at him, he couldn't even bathe on the men's side, because he didn't meet the height limit, and these pedophile women were leering at him.

"Let's leave, they look like they want to rape me or something." Hitsugaya hissed, sinking into the water a little more.

"Huh?" Rangiku asked dumbly, in the middle of talking to her right breast, "Who wants to rape you?" she asked in a...rather loud voice.

The women stared at her wide-eyed, and Hitsugaya sunk deeper, until he was practically underwater.

"You idiot. Why are you so loud?" he gurgled, his head now at her waist.

Rangiku peered at her captain, then at the giggling women, the gears in her head turned. Her blue eyes twinkled mischievously, and she sunk down too.

"Taichou, I have an idea to make them go away." she whispered into his ear.

"What? What idea? Tell me what you're--ack!" he only had enough time to hold his breath, before he got engulfed in her chokehold.

In the darkness, alone and wet Hitsugaya tried to comfort himself with the fact that he--according to the analysis he had done yesterday night in case of such emergencies--would only have to hold his breath for fifteen minutes. That was considered easy, compared to the amount of time he's held it before.

"SHIRO-CHAN!! I'M SO HAPPY YOU PASSED YOUR ENTRANCE EXAM!! YOU'VE MADE MAMA SO PROUD!!" Rangiku suddenly screamed, disturbing the towel on her head, and it plopped into the water insignificantly.

"_MAMA?!_" The women and Hitsugaya squawked in disbelief, the latter accidentally letting all the air out from his lungs.

"That's right sweetie! I'm you're Mama! You're such a smart little boy!" Rangiku yelled, fondling his head and rubbing his white hair.

So now, his dumbass lieutenant was telling the pedophiles he was her son, he was about to pass out from getting smothered so badly into her chest, and no matter how hard Hitsugaya fought, somewhere deep down he knew he would never get away in enough time.

The bath crowd quickly dispersed when Rangiku started chanting 'whose Mama's good little boy?!' with enthusiastic clamor. She snuggled him a bit longer anyway, solely because he felt so nice and soft.

"Mafsumofo, gef off of me!!" Hitsugaya screamed at her breasts, his struggling reaching its apogee.

Rangiku smiled indulgently and finally let him go. Barely able to regain his footing on the rocky bottom, he quickly sat down next to her, gasping for air.

"You..._idiot_, _you incorrigible __**idiot**._" he still managed to wheeze out.

"What? I made them leave didn't I?" Rangiku asked innocently.

A vein throbbed in his temple; she was doing this on purpose. As much as she proved the opposite of, Hitsugaya knew Rangiku wasn't dense. The rumors were going to spread like wildfire and she probably knew, but didn't care.

"_Your good little boy?_" he offered quietly, voice dripping with venom.

Rangiku shrugged, "It was the only way I could think of to get them to leave," she replied, untroubled.

"Why...couldn't _we_ just leave?" he asked through clenched teeth.

Rangiku gaped at him.

"Taichou! You know my boobs need their daily saturating!" she exclaimed, touching them fondly, "They don't want to get all saggy!"

Hitsugaya suddenly had the disturbing urge to bang his head on the smoky rocks.

"Whatever." he muttered, giving up on her.

They sat in silence for all of two seconds before, "Want me to wash you're back Taichou?"

Hitsugaya sputtered.

"What the hell?!" he turned toward her, "Where did that come from?"

"I was just asking." she said nonchalantly, jerking a thumb behind her, "They've got the supplies right there."

Following the direction of her finger, he saw that there was indeed a wooden bucket next to the sliding door, filled neatly with brushes, washcloths, and soap.

"No, I don't want you to wash my back," he looked grudgingly at the supplies, "I'll do it myself."

Stifling a giggle, Rangiku stretched out her arm, and without even getting up, got the bucket and placed it on the stone armrest between them. Hitsugaya grunted in thanks, grabbing soap and a washcloth while Rangiku helped herself to a brush.

"I bet you'd let Hinamori do it." she grinned as he predictably dropped his soap.

"Sh-shut up! She has nothing to do with this." Roses bloomed on his cheeks, before he could stop them.

Resisting the serious impulse to break his spine in a hug, Rangiku continued casually, "I bet you would."

"No I wouldn't!" he retorted, fumbling in the water for his soap.

"You should just be honest," she advised, putting the brush away and taking a washcloth herself, "It's so obvious that you like her."

"I don't like her!" he exclaimed, while his hands continued feeling the rocky bottom for the missing soap (stupid cleaning product). "Why do you keep bringing this up anyway?" he glared at her, although with the flush, he looked far more embarrassed than angry.

Rangiku preoccupied herself by scrubbing her hair; it was so fun to tease him. "Most of Seireitei knows about that mondo crush of yours."

For a moment, Hitsugaya ceased in his soap-search to give his lieutenant a horrified look, "_What?_"

"Ha! I got you, Taichou!" Rangiku cried, abandoning washing her hair to point a finger at him, "That kind of reaction doesn't really say 'I don't like her' does it?"

Hitsugaya slapped away her suds covered hand, annoyed that he had fallen for it, "Shut up, Matsumoto."

Rangiku gave him a lighthearted smile and raised her left hand, which had been concealed in the murky water up to this point, "Here's your soap."

Hitsugaya stared incredulously at the bar of alkali and fat, "Were you...?"

"Just take it, Taichou."

Hitsugaya complied, deciding not to ask.

"If you like her, just tell her," Rangiku continued, rinsing her hair, while Hitsugaya scrubbed his own, "Don't be such a chicken."

"It's not like I'm afraid," Hitsugaya grumbled, his fingers running around his scalp with the soap.

"How about some chocolate? Maybe you can give her some flowers?" Rangiku suggested, bemusedly.

"She doesn't like chocolate, and she's allergic to most flowers," Hitsugaya replied automatically, before realizing what a mistake that was.

Rangiku's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

"Taichou..." she began, giving him a suspicious look, "Have you been spying on her?"

Hitsugaya almost screamed in frustration when the soap slipped from his hands again.

"What? _No!_"

"I remember two months ago, how you would always leave at three..." Rangiku accused, leaning in closer, "...the exact time when Hinamori came back from those training sessions."

This time, Hitsugaya quickly found the soap and slapped it into his washcloth to keep it there.

"I don't know what you're talking about Matsumoto." Hitsugaya denied, "I told you, I had to go to a meeting with Soutaichou."

Rangiku quirked an eyebrow skeptically, "You had a meeting everyday for four weeks at exactly three o' clock?"

Hitsugaya shrugged rinsing his hair, "He was talking about the new security measures we'd take, because of the ryoka invasions. It's only coincidence that it was the same time Hinamori would come back."

He stopped and blinked, a little amazed at the calm in his voice.

Fine, so maybe he _did_ follow her back a couple of times or two, but it had been solely out of concern. She had to pass through Rukongai, and with Hinamori's personality, she'd most likely start chatting with a murderer. He just cared about the well being of his childhood friend.

Rangiku looked at him a few seconds longer, before relenting.

"Well, if you're scared to tell her by yourself, I could go with you."

Hitsugaya wrung his towel, the calm from before suddenly disintegrating, "I'm not scared."

"Oh, we could go to a nice little restaurant in the nobles' area!" Rangiku continued, not hearing him.

"Matsumoto, would you just leave it alo--"

"And when we're there, she'll look at you, eyes full of confusion and ask," Rangiku clasped her hands together, and Hitsugaya couldn't tell if the sparkles around her head were real or not, "Oh, Hitsugaya-kun. Why have you brought me here? Is there...something you want to tell me?"

He wrung the towel harder.

"And you'll be all," Rangiku formed a bemused scowl, "Hinamori, I've been waiting all this time for the right moment. And I think now is that time."

Deftly, she switched back to Hinamori.

"Oh my, what is it Hitsugaya-kun?"

"Hinamori?"

"Yes?"

She held up her bar of soap, placed flatly on her palms and looked up at the imaginary Hinamori nervously.

"Will you marr--"

_RIIIPP_

Rangiku turned to look at Hitsugaya, who was staring at the torn cloth in his hands, stunned.

Rangiku smirked wryly, "What's the matter, Taichou? Did it get too emotional for you?"

Hitsugaya twitched, "Shut up!" He took one look at the towel pieces and flung them carelessly onto a rock.

"Aww! Taichou is angry again!" Rangiku shrieked elatedly.

"You and Hinamori would make such a cute couple!" she chortled, splashing water into his face.

He sputtered and shook his head like a wet dog, "Shut up!"

"You're in denial!" Rangiku screamed, grabbing a nearby bucket and dumping more water over him.

Hitsugaya growled, shaking his head again.

"Stop that!"

"You stop being so cute!"

In moment of childishness, Hitsugaya grabbed the supplies bucket, flung the contents into the water, flew to his feet, filled the bucket, and sent it flying at his assistant.

She managed to dodge just in time and the wave slammed into the nearby wall with a 'slap!'

"So, that's how you want to do it, huh?" Rangiku smirked, getting to her feet, "Alright Captain, but I should warn you. I was known as the Water War Champ."

Hitsugaya snorted, "You just made that up, you idiot."

Rangiku's smirk widened, "Maybe so. But I still won't go easy on you." she twirled the inside of the wooden bucket with her hand.

Hitsugaya could feel a little smirk start forming on his own lips, and he decided that maybe this once, he'd humor her.

"I'll reciprocate that."

He filled his bucket.

She filled hers.

* * *

"Taichou, why did we have a water fight at the Onsen?" Rangiku asked regrettably, her head hanging off the armrest of the sofa she was laying on, "That was a really stupid idea." 

"Shut up. Your voice is making me dizzy." Hitsugaya murmured from across her, pressing his ice pack harder into his forehead.

"Ne, Taichou, can I ask you a question?" Rangiku inquired, ignoring his words and not even waiting for a reply, "If a tree falls down and no one's there to hear it, does it make a sound?"

Hitsugaya would've stared at Rangiku if he could move his head without the whole world spinning, instead he settled for a perfunctory, "Where is all this coming from?"

"Last time I was in the living world, I heard a guy at one of those _universities_ asking about it."

"You mean a philosopher?"

"What's that?"

"A person who does a critical study of fundamental beliefs and the grounds for them."

"...what?"

"In your terms, a reflective thinker."

"Oh," Rangiku said intelligently, "So, what's your answer?"

"What do you think?" Hitsugaya grumbled sarcastically, moving the ice closer to his right temple, "If a tree falls, it makes a sound. Regardless if any people are there to hear it or not."

"You're missing the point Taichou," Rangiku stated, feeling all the blood rush to her head, "It's not a fact question. You're suppose to think outside the box."

Hitsugaya peered at his lieutenant's limp figure, from around the bag. Outside the box or not, it was a plain question. Tree falls down, tree makes noise.

"What about you, Matsumoto?" he asked, the question suddenly striking him.

"Me?" Rangiku repeated, staring at a small speck on the ceiling above them, "Well, this riddle starts questioning existence doesn't it?" she answered mysteriously.

"What do you mean?" Hitsugaya asked again, unable to repress the curious child inside of him.

"Well, think about it Taichou," Rangiku said, offhand pondering how many tiles were on the speckled ceiling, "If a tree falls down and makes a sound, no one will know, because no one is there. If a tree falls down and makes no sound, no one will know, because no one is there either. So that tree is outside the five senses. If it's outside the five senses, does it even exist in the first place?"

Hitsugaya stared at her in disbelief, while Rangiku played with one end of her pink scarf.

"Matsumoto," Hitsugaya managed to choke out after a while, "That was...impressive. I didn't know you could think so deeply."

"You wound me, Taichou," Rangiku said smiling, wishing she could see the look on his face, "I know a lot about philosopharble."

"So you know all about ethics, metaphysics, epistemology, and logic?"

"...I know logic. It's the one with the numbers right?"

Hitsugaya sighed; he knew it was too good to be true.

"Never mind."

"Are you hungry?" Rangiku questioned instead, changing the subject, "We haven't eaten since this morning."

"What time is it now?"

She looked at the lobby clock behind her, "Five-thirty." she said after a while, unable to lift her head up so she was forced to read the numbers upside down.

"Sheesh, is it that late already?" Hitsugaya grumbled, "Yeah, let's go get something."

The two remained motionless.

"...maybe a few more minutes."

"Yeah."

* * *

"Tell me again how an Onsen can contain a clothing store and a deli?" Hitsugaya muttered, looking around him in disbelief. 

"It's not _just_ a Onsen, Taichou," Rangiku said cheerily, trotting in front of him, "It's the Country Club! The chicken soup for a…soul!"

She held the door open for him, as he came in after, inspecting the place with a critical eye.

The large room was split into two halves. The right half was painted with bright jubilant colors and held racks and racks of sweaters, shirts, and pants. The left half was entirely contrasting, painted with brown and black, and a display window showing all kinds of food and soups. A cashier was seated behind the counter on a stool, reading a magazine.

Rangiku hummed to herself, as she headed towards the left half. Hitsugaya stared at her back, before hesitantly following.

As they walked closer, Hitsugaya took a good look at the cashier; she had an average face, short dirty blonde hair, and enough bangles to make a giant hula-hoop.

"Yoo-hoo! Keiko-san!" Rangiku called to the girl, waving wildly.

Hitsugaya looked up at his lieutenant with a questioning gaze and then at the cashier, now known as Keiko.

Keiko immediately snapped her head up at the voice, "Matsumoto-san! You're back!" she cried happily, throwing her magazine aside, and getting off her stool.

Rangiku walked up to the counter smiling, "Yeah, it's been a long time hasn't it?"

Keiko shook hands with her, before catching Hitsugaya's eye. "Well what do we have here? Who's this little guy?" she asked pleasantly, leaning towards him far closer than he would've liked.

"Oh, this is Tenth Division Captain, Hitsugaya Toushiro," Rangiku said quickly, pushing Keiko away from him, "You know, my _Captain_."

Keiko slapped her hands over her mouth, "A...a Captain?!" hurriedly she did a hasty little bow.

"Taichou, this is Keiko Ayumi," Rangiku introduced, "She's the manager of this place."

"My apologies, Taichou-dono!" she squeaked, her bracelets jingling, "Please forgive me for greeting you in such a casual way."

"Don't worry about it." Hitsugaya accepted, intrigued by her refined behavior.

She smiled at him in relief, "Now, how may I help you?" she asked, straightening herself a bit.

"You go ahead and order for me, Taichou," Rangiku suddenly said, "I need to go make a phone call."

"To who?" Hitsugaya asked lazily, as she breezed pass him, to the right half of the shop.

Rangiku hesitated, "To...to..." her eyes darted towards the silver forks in the utensil container beside the cash register. "To Gin! Yeah...to Gin!"

Hitsugaya's nose wrinkled at the mention of the fox-faced captain, "Ichimaru? Why?"

"Because..." her eyes traveled desperately to a stack of hot pink sweaters, "Because I let him borrow my tank top and he still hasn't given it back yet!" the words came out before she could thoroughly check them and she winced.

Hitsugaya stared, eyes filming over.

"He borrowed...your tank top?"

"Yeah, magenta. Now if you'll excuse me," Rangiku scrambled away in a panicky rush and winced at the broken sound her Captain made at the image.

After finishing their dinner (miso soup and some rice balls), Rangiku was paying Keiko, when she noticed the unusual emptiness of the room. "Ne, Keiko-san where is everybody? This place is usually packed."

Hitsugaya blinked when Keiko suddenly stiffened. "It's packed whenever you're here Matsumoto-san." she said quietly, muffing around with the buttons on the register.

Rangiku made an 'oh' expression when understanding dawned on her.

"Oh, those guys weren't here for the stuff anyway," she waved it off carelessly, "You just wait for the people who really matter."

Keiko immediately beamed at her, seemingly waiting for her to say something like that, "You're such a wonderful person Matsumoto-san! Even with that great body of yours, you're still so modest!"

In Hitsugaya's mind ear, he heard one hundred children screaming in agony, ten mirrors breaking, and five fingernails on a chalkboard at the blatant prevarication.

"Well you know, that's me! Modest Matsumoto!" Rangiku laughed heartily, thumping her chest.

Hitsugaya looked at her in shock.

"Oh, I better go get those discounts I promised you!" Keiko said, smiling at her.

Hitsugaya's eyes widened as he turned towards his lieutenant. _Discounts?_

"Oh, thank you so much!" Rangiku smiled back, "It's so kind of you to give me those!"

"No trouble! Especially for someone as humble as you are, Matsumoto-san!" Keiko said, waving her hand, and opening the register with the other.

Suddenly, it all made sense to Hitsugaya.

"What are you talking about, Matsumoto? You're not modest at all." he said bluntly.

Keiko and Rangiku froze, Keiko having just taken the discounts out.

"Ta-Taichou, what are you saying?" Rangiku asked nervously, silently pleading for her Captain to play along. No such luck.

"You talk to those mammary glands of yours everyday. Remember? _They need their daily saturating?_" he quoted with his fingers.

Keiko looked stunned, and gaped at Rangiku.

"Oh Taichou's just playing around, that's all." Rangiku said quickly, "Now, about those discounts..."

"What'd you call them? The Holy Valley?" he interrupted, pretending to be thinking hard, "Or was it the Twin Miracles? Oh no, it was the Wonder--"

"Oh god, look at the time! You know what, forget the discounts! Taichou and I have to get going now! Bye-bye, Keiko-san!" Rangiku said in a rush, offering an apologetic smile to Keiko, who looked like someone had just ran over her cat.

Hitsugaya smirked, and allowed himself to be picked up by the collar and dragged away.

* * *

"Taichoooouuu, why'd you do that?" Rangiku whined, sprawled facedown on her couch, back at the Tenth division, "I was so close to getting those discounts!" 

Hitsugaya snorted, "You should be thanking me, I just stopped the apocalypse. Honestly, telling her you were modest."

Rangiku couldn't help but smile at her Captain's strange cheerfulness. Getting up, she peered at her Captain, "You're in an unusually good mood aren't you?"

He shrugged distractingly as he stared into his cup of tea. _Was it suppose to change colors like that?_

"Could it be...you had fun?" she smiled fondly at him.

"...shut up."

"We could do this more often by ourselves. Like maybe, visit the living world, go shopping, or head out to Rukongai--"

"You still have to do paperwork." Hitsugaya said simply, dismissing the innuendo.

Rangiku groaned, then suddenly perked up.

"Okay Taichou, how about this? You do the first session and I do the second session of paperwork, we split it evenly!"

"...There is no second session."

"Exactamente!"

By now, Hitsugaya had realized the lose-lose situation. Sighing in overall frustration, and before he even knew what he was doing; he took a long gulp of his tea. What a _mistake_ that was.

Hitsugaya's eyes bulged, and he could feel the bile rising in his stomach. The liquid tasted like rotten tomato juice, scorching his taste buds and felt like sand oozing down his throat. The oily stench that was burning his nose was almost enough to make him vomit all over his desk.

"I told you not to buy those leaves from that merchant." Rangiku commented, after seeing the nauseated look on his face.

Painfully, Hitsugaya swallowed the vile liquid. "Well, how was I suppose to know he wanted to rip me off?"

Rangiku gave him a funny look.

"Taichou, there was a dead _rat_ in the leaves."

"...shut up, it was cheap and he gave me six bags full."

Rangiku shook her head in lament at the simplistic views of men. Even young, the male mind shall always be programmed with that dreadful motto: Cheap and many means buy.

"Ugh..." Hitsugaya retched.

So he reluctantly acknowledged, perhaps it hadn't been the best idea to buy the tea leaves. But he'd just as soon declare himself a white fuzzy caterpillar, before admitting he was wrong.

"You could always drink something else," Rangiku suggested, quirking an eyebrow when his cheeks tinged green, "How about milk? You could use the calcium."

Rangiku's eyes widened as her Captain suddenly picked up a nearby book and gave it longing stare. "Taichou, I think I have something else you can drink." she said hurriedly; when Hitsugaya looked like he was ready sandpaper his tongue on the cover.

Hitsugaya stopped, just about to loll out his tongue and put it out of its misery.

"What?" he said suspiciously.

Instead of answering, she got up and padded over to the closet door. Sliding it open, she rummaged inside, throwing things out behind her. A tiny mountain was slowly starting form out of all the books, shoes, candy bars, and paper fans.

"It's got to be in here," Hitsugaya heard Rangiku mumbling, "They were suppose to get put in here."

Hitsugaya stood up curiously, "What are you look--"

"Ah-ha! Here it is!" Rangiku exclaimed exuberantly, startling Hitsugaya back into his seat

Rangiku remerged with two lidded cups, and two gigantic tube straws, "Bubble Tea!"

Hitsugaya stared at her dumbly.

"When did you get those?"

"When we were at the deli."

"But I was with--"

"I know, but remember when I made that phone call? I called one of our Tenth Division members and had them go buy it, then I told them to hide it in the closet."

Hitsugaya suddenly slumped in his chair and in a hopeful tone, "So, you weren't..."

"No, I wasn't calling Gin about my tank top. I don't even _have_ a tank top." Rangiku reassured him, kindly, walking over to his desk, "Sorry if I caused you any emotional trauma."

"Sorry isn't about to undo the damage you've done. I'm scarred for life." Hitsugaya muttered, accepting the offered cup and stabbing the straw into the hole. Slurping some of it to quiet his riled taste buds, he looked at her strangely, "I didn't know you liked bubble tea."

Rangiku chewed on a tapioco ball thoughtfully, "I use to have it all the time when I was alive."

Hitsugaya bristled; past lives were always a rather taboo subject between shinigami. "...I see." There was a silence that for the first time, felt awkward to Hitsugaya.

"But the horror!" Rangiku sighed mournfully, breaking the silence, "This bubble tea pretty much vacuumed up all of my money! And since I didn't get those discounts, I might have to live without those shoes for three weeks!"

Hitsugaya sighed too, she would never be serious.

"Che, quit complaining you idiot. If you just saved your money instead of spending it all on sake, you wouldn't be completely broke right now." he said, smirking.

Rangiku pouted at him, "That's so cold Taichou! You're the one who lost me those discounts in the first place!"

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes, "Relax, you said three weeks right? You've waited longer." he said sucking up some more tea.

"Taichou is such a meanie." Rangiku mumbled sullenly, "After all I went through to get you this tea." she sipped pitifully, almost out.

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes again, "Yeah, yeah, I greatly appreciate it. Now quit trying to guilt me into lending money to you."

"Alright," Rangiku obeyed, giving up and tossing her cup into the wastebasket next to his desk. She was just about to slink off to her room when Hitsugaya suddenly called, "Matsumoto?"

Turning around again with a look of vague curiousness, she waited.

For a moment, all Hitsugaya did was scowl at his desk before looking her straight in the eye, "Really, thanks for the tea." he said, his voice sincere.

Rangiku blinked a second in astonishment, before breaking out into a smile.

"No problem. I had fun today Taichou." she winked at him, before waving goodnight and heading off to her room.

Hitsugaya waited until he could no longer hear her footsteps, before allowing himself an indulgent little smile. Finishing off the rest of his tea, he tossed it and stared a minute at the cup in the trash before shaking his head and padding off to his own room.

So maybe this bonding day thing hadn't been so bad after all, maybe he didn't hate today quite as much as he thought he would, and maybe, just maybe he had fun as well.

"Matsumoto, what happened today at the hot springs shall remain at the hot springs got it?"

"Of course Taichou."

"I mean it."

"So do I."

"...no you don't."

* * *

About the money thing, I'm not really sure, but I reasoned that since Soul Society seemed to have everything from hot springs to restaurant to horoscopes, they should at least have _some sort_ of currency.

And I even saw in one of those Shinigami Zukan endings, where Rangiku is shopping at a cosmetics store and the old lady is working a cash register. Cash registersome kind of money. But I'm not sure if the Golden Omakes are part of the actual series or not.

So even if there isn't any sort of currency in Soul Society, please bare with me and pretend there is for my fic okay? Thanks!


	4. Ukitake's Explosive Tuesday

A/n: Geez, how long has it been since I updated? It was partially my sister's fault, since she did something screwy with the phone connection which killed the computer connection too! XD I'm really sorry for being so late with this chapter!

I'll also put this here since someone asked about the whole number thing, which I will explain now. Captains only have to spend one day with their lieutenants, the numbers are just for which day. That's why Shunsui was sad, because he has to wait eight days before his bonding day with Nanao, which is Day #9.

Sorry I didn't clear that up sooner! And remember, Keep on Reviewing!

Disclaimer: Bleach doesn't belong to me, but Tite Kubo.

**Ukitake's Explosive Tuesday**

Ukitake Juushiro swiped a trickle of perspiration off his temple and adjusted the blue bandana around his forehead.

"Unhand the broom, Goat Boy!"

"Taichou, told me to sweep the floor, so I'm sweeping it! Now, Give. Me. The. Broom."

A faint crash was heard outside the bedroom that Ukitake was currently dusting, followed by a string of colorful words.

"Geez, what's wrong with you, booger-girl? Can't you just use the mop?"

"I _like _brooms."

Ukitake sighed, surveying his room. The bed was made and the sheets were all folded and tucked carefully. The scrolls, books, brushes, and ink pots had been immaculately rearranged on his desk, so that they were no longer scattered all over the place. A small content smile formed on his lips, as he admired his work proudly. The room was surely going to give Shunsui a heart-attack next time he visited.

"Brooms are so much better than mops!"

"What are saying?"

"Look at mops. They're all raggedy, sloshy, cleaning up barf and everything. But brooms are firm, tall, and straight, kind of like our Captain."

"...that has got to be the stupidest thing I have ever heard."

The peacefulness that had just reached his person, immediately shattered into shameful little particles. Ukitake blinked, and walked towards the closed door, trying to wrap around the fact that his subordinate had just compared him to a piece of cleaning equipment.

"What do you know? You're one of those people who have no intellectual depth whatsoever in the art of cleaning, unlike the Captain and I."

"Shut up! If anyone has any intellec-whatsit for sweeping up this crap, it would be the Captain and _I_!"

"_Oh,_ are you saying you can sweep this floor better than me?"

"I _know_ I can sweep this floor better than you."

"Well then, prove it! Let's go!"

"I don't have a broom!"

"Ha! Should've thought of that before you said anything, huh?"

Ukitake edged even closer to the door as the thumping of footsteps, and the sound of something wooden colliding with something hollow.

"Wow, you really do have nothing in that head of yours."

"I can't believe you just banged that _stick_ on my skull! That friggin' _hurt_!"

"Good, it was suppose to."

One of his pale hands reached forward hesitantly at the door handle, his brow furrowing in concern at the sounds of wood splintering and a strange cracking sound outside.

"Holy crap, I think I'm bleeding."

"You're not bleeding, you idiot."

"Don't call me an idiot!"

"I'm just saying the truth! It's what you get for hitting a girl."

"...you're hardly a girl."

At the muffled sounds of pain, and the rustling of brush, Ukitake slowly slid open the door. In an almost sadly predictable way, Kiyone was smothering Sentarou's face with the stiff fibres of the broomstick, while Sentarou was yelling indignantly, attempting to defend himself with the dustpan.

Ukitake sighed wearily, letting his dust feather plop on the ground, which sent up a mini dust cloud that surrounded his feet. Massaging his temples, he willed his headache to disappear, the lack of sleep wasn't helping matters.

It wasn't like he hadn't _wanted _to sleep early. It was just that he had pretty much spent the whole last night, comforting one Kyoraku Shunsui, and listening to him complain on how their sensei was such a mega-geezer and was totally unfair and didn't care about reason and would never understand the budding relationship between Nanao-chan and himself.

And somehow, as it had continued, he found himself from patting the eighth captain sympathetically on the back, to eventually dragging his wasted self home in a wheelbarrow.

"Kiyone, remember what we talked about?" Ukitake said, walking over to the half crazed girl and patting her lightly on the shoulder, "Sentarou says many things, he hardly means any of them."

"I understand, sir. But please, since we're cleaning anyway, allow me to sweep that cheeky mouth of his thoroughly." she cackled maniacally and aimed towards said body part.

Sentarou shouted something nonsensical in a mocking tone.

Ukitake quirked an eyebrow, not understanding.

Kiyone however, seemed to understand perfectly.

"Not good enough, huh? Well then fine, I hope you weren't that attached to your eye sockets!"

At these words, Ukitake quickly snatched the broom away from Kiyone. Sentarou reeled backwards, dust pan smacking his head, when his offender was suddenly removed from his face.

"Kiyone, you must administer some control," Ukitake chided, holding the handle tightly in his grasp, "It doesn't matter how strong the urge to kill Sentarou is. You have to tell yourself 'no.' " he drew an imaginary X with the broom for extra emphasis.

Relunctantly and after making a rather rude face at her fellow third seat, she nodded. "I apologize Taichou."

Ukitake nodded and handed back the broom. Glancing over at Sentarou, who was picking himself up off the floor, he went back into his room and put away his own implement.

Why exactly they were spending their bonding day cleaning, he would never be sure.

All he remembered was that when the two had routinely burst into his room as a quotidian wake-up call this morning, he had made the off-hand comment that it was starting to get really dusty in the room, and thought about tidying up.

Sentarou and Kiyone had immediately stopped their bickering over who was a syllable ahead in greeting their Captain and insisted on helping. Then one thing followed another, and he soon found himself like this.

"Well, we mind as well get the rest of the place while we're at it. Come along, you two." he called to them optimistically, starting down the hall.

"Coming!" they shouted simultaneously and teared after him, trying to trip each other as they went.

Ukitake sighed again, but continued walking as he heard them crash into the rice paper door and effectively destroy whatever had been kept in there.

"Are you half gorilla? You nearly killed me!"

"I wouldn't have fallen on you, if you'd stop kicking my knees!"

"And look what you did! The door's completely ruined!"

"How is this all _my_ fault? If you had just stopped being so--"

"Door-killer!"

"You're the one who started it when you--"

"Door-killer!"

"Stop calling me that, if you could listen for one friggin' sec--"

"_Door-killer_!"

"SHUT UP!"

* * *

Ukitake leaned against the jamb of the Main Office door, waiting patiently as his subordinates rushed over to him, huffing and puffing. 

They crouched in front of him, wheezing and ready to collapse.

"See? If you two hadn't started arguing, you wouldn't have had to run across the whole compound." he scolded lightly, wagging his finger at them.

The two gasped out apologies and recomposed themselves while Ukitake slid open the door.

"For the Main Office, we're just going to polish a few antiques," he stepped in and looked back towards them with a sudden pleading expression, "Please, please, _please_ try not to break anything. Some of these things are really quite valuable, and Soutaichou said that we can't afford much more, since Soi Fong is killing the balance sheet with constant refurbishings."

They saluted him, "Yes sir!" their eyes shined with determination.

Ukitake sent them a woeful look, not reassured at all.

"...okay, come in."

The two scrambled in, which unwittingly caused Sentarou's foot to slam into a nearby book shelf, wobbling the water-color vase on top of it, and Kiyone to ram into the couch, making the needlework picture frame above it quiver threateningly.

Ukitake almost bit through his lip, while waiting for the shaking to subside. Not a very good start.

Forcing a smile over his worry, he seated himself down on the couch, while Kiyone and Sentarou managed to sit down on the one across from him.

"Here, you two can start on these statues and I'll do the weapons." he walked up the book shelf and grabbed a statue of a man grilling a barbecue and gave it to Sentarou. Then, walking over to his desk, he snatched up what seemed to be a green horse trying to eat its own foot and handed it to Kiyone.

"It was a gift." he murmured to Kiyone, when she stared at it strangely.

Finally, he heaved out a long rectangular box from the glass cabinet next to his desk. Setting it softly on the coffee table, he gently unlatched the silver buckles and pushed the cover open.

Kiyone and Sentarou gasped in awe at the three gorgeous silver daggers that were revealed. They glinted lightly, while Ukitake unveiled the crimson silk that bedded them.

Catching the gaping looks on their faces, Ukitake couldn't help smiling.

"Well, let's get started. Do you have your rags?"

They whipped the clothes out of their sleeves in a solemn motion, before he could even finish his words. Ukitake blinked, before nodding and taking out his own rag.

As he worked on getting the aged look out of the elephant in the first daggers handle, his eyes darted between his subordinates nervously. It wasn't like he didn't trust them to do it right. He was just a bit concerned about how passionate they could be when trying to impress him, especially when precious irreplacable articles were involved.

So far, nothing had happened, they were both too intent on the statues to compete against each other.

Ukitake relaxed slightly, but still kept an eye on them.

Slowly, as time wore on and nothing happened, Ukitake relaxed a little more. The two actually seemed genuine about doing a good job. Even when Sentarou had finished first and started requesting for another one, Kiyone hadn't even acknowledged it. (He would know, since he spent a full minute trying to stop his terrifed heart from pounding out of his chest).

Soon, he stopped glancing at them altogether and started trying to fix his own half-assed job at polishing.

A hour later, the trio had finished all the statues and weapons and were now working on the vases.

Ukitake smiled contently, obtaining a whole new perspective of his two subordinates. Who knew they could be so focused?

"Kotsubaki, you took my rag." Kiyone uttered quietly, gazing at the greasy cloth in his hand.

Sentarou stared at her.

"No, this is mine."

Kiyone shook her head, "No, I put mine down by the blue vase."

Ukitake could feel his smile practically ooze off his face.

Sentarou scowled, "Well, I found this one by the green vase."

"Then, how come there's no rag by the blue vase?"

"How should I know?"

Kiyone gave him an annoyed look, "Because you took it."

Sentarou glared, "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did!"

"No, I didn't!"

"YES, YOU DID!"

"NO, I DIDN'T!"

They stood up together, slamming the rags down, making Ukitake grimace at the sharp sound the vases made on contact.

Kiyone clenched her teeth in frustration.

"If you hadn't taken my rag, I would be three vases ahead of you!"

"Ha! Well you aren't, are you?"

"Only cause your a big fat cheater!"

"How am I a cheater?"

Sentarou spun around and pointed at the water-colored vase he had almost knocked over.

"I'm cleaning that one!" he declared, making his way across the room.

"Not if I clean it first!"

Kiyone stumbled towards the book shelf as well.

Ukitake just watched them go with a blank look on his face. It was kind of funny really, how just ten seconds ago they had all been sitting cooperatively and nicely. He turned his gaze towards the abandoned polishing rags that were left on the table, never having felt such a strong urge to pulverize the cloth.

"Get out of my face, booger-eater!" Sentarou yelled, a vein throbbing in his temple, as he pushed Kiyone away from the shelf. Ukitake almost whimpered when the vase teetered dangerously.

Kiyone growled, and with a scream of effort, tackled Sentarou out of the way while he had been jumping for it. Standing on tip-toes she wriggled her fingers for the ornament, feeling its cool surface before an enraged Sentarou came crashing into her. Kiyone grunted, and jammed an elbow into his face.

"Argh!" Sentarou howled, his hands covering his face in pain, as he backed up slightly. Kiyone smirked, and was just about to make a quip remark, when she paled considerably.

"You idiot!" she screamed pushing pass Sentarou not-too-gently.

Sentarou's eyes flamed, after he reassured himself that nothing was broken.

"Why you--!"

"Not now, Sentarou!"

Sentarou blinked at his Captain, who had sprang from his seat at the impromptu moment. He too, pushed pass Sentarou, but with a much more gentle motion and rushed after Kiyone.

The male third seat stared at them confusedly, before glancing up. His eyes suddenly bulged and he cursed before he chased after them.

Kiyone glared when he caught up, her eyes still on the vase which was using the shelves like bridges as it rolled, "This is all your freakin' fault Kotsubaki! If you hadn't bumped into the damned shelf we wouldn't be doing this right now!"

Sentarou glared at the vase, not trusting himself enough to take his eyes off it.

"Well, if you hadn't decided to stab me with that blade of an elbow, then I wouldn't have bumped into it!"

"You pushed me first!"

"Fight over it later!" Ukitake interrupted, trying not to step on Kiyone's feet and keep Sentarou's feet from stepping on his own. _Why did I arrange my shelves like that?_

Kiyone suddenly gasped fearfully.

"Taichou, it's going to fall off!"

Ukitake yanked his head away from the vase. Sure enough, the shelves ended in another few feet, and a great gap stood between the edge and the wall.

"What do we do, Taichou?" Sentarou asked, carefully batting away some of his Captain's white hair out of his face.

Ukitake's alarmed brain shuffled for a few minutes, before an idea presented itself.

"I'll keep up with it, in case it starts rolling off in the middle! You two, go to the end and try to catch it!"

Kiyone nodded immediately, speeding up, while Sentarou quickly sped pass him.

"Be careful! That thing weighs a ton! It could give you a serious concussion!" Ukitake warned, his eyes returning to the shelf...where the vase had disappeared. Ukitake stared longer, willing the vase to become visible again.

The vase wasn't here, where was the vase?

A sudden horrifying thought came over Ukitake and he skidded to a stop on the tatami mats. Whirling in 360 degrees turns, he checked to make sure there were no broken porcelain shards lying about.

"I got it, monkey-boy!"

Ukitake snapped his head up, his eyes widening, while Kiyone attempted to outrun Sentarou to the huge gap.

"Like hell you do! Step aside, booger-ball!"

It was by sheer will that Ukitake hadn't screamed when the vase finally got to the very edge and his idiotic subordinates weren't even close to it. Instead, he sprinted after them at shunpo-like speed and used his desk to propell himself towards them. He could feel some wet sticky liquid spill onto his robe, but he paid it no mind.

"Kiyone! Sentarou! In-coming!" he shouted by way of warning, and before either could turn around he had smashed himself into their backs, sending them forward.

"Ahhh!" they screamed in unison as they flew towards the wall, and Ukitake slammed unceremoniously face-down on the mats.

"Get the vase!" Ukitake screamed, snapping his head back up and watching them apprehensively.

They surged forward, just as the vase was lazily toppling off of the shelf. They collapsed side by side in the gap, and watched it teeter above them like a boulder on a cliff, having nowhere near enough time to stand up. They raised their hands above their heads in a pathetic attempt to catch it.

Ukitake scratched at the kneaded straw in the mat in front of him and forced himself not to scrunch his eyes shut.

It was still staggering at the very edge, like it was mocking them.

Then, in what seemed like forever, began descending towards their shaking hands in a lumbering fashion.

Ukitake tore the mat apart, Kiyone shut her eyes, and Sentarou grimaced for impact.

Silence.

Kiyone and Sentarou felt a cool surface touching their hands and glanced at their Captain. Ukitake was staring a few inches above their heads, like if he stopped watching it would topple over and shatter into a million pieces. Gulping, they looked up as well.

They had caught the vase. They had _caught _the vase.

"Taichou, we caught it." Sentarou murmured the obvious, more to himself than Ukitake.

"What do we do, Taichou?" Kiyone whispered, afraid to speak any louder.

"Okay, I want you to _carefully_ lower it onto the floor." Ukitake whispered back, still gripping the ruined mat pieces.

They nodded, but didn't do anything.

"It's okay, it's in your hands now. It won't fall." Ukitake reassured, though he didn't speak above whispering level and his knuckles had gone even whiter than his pale skin from gripping the mat.

"You...can let it down now."

They nodded again, and slowly began lowering their arms. It was a slow painful process, even though the weight was seriously killing their arms, not to mention the vase was only two feet above the ground anyway.

"Slowly, easy now. Easy." Ukitake whispered, his chin pressed against the floor, his eyes still on the gigantic ornament.

Finally, when an eternity seemed to have passed, the vase was eased onto the ground.

After watching it for forty seconds straight, they all let out a sigh of relief.

"_That_ was more frightening than any hollow I have ever faced." Ukitake said, finally letting go of the peices of the mat.

"I thought for sure it was going to crush us when it fell." Sentarou mumbled, breathing hard, his foot twitching slightly behind him.

Kiyone only nodded, fanning herself with her hand to stop the superfluous panic.

A few minutes passed, where they all calmed down considerably.

"I think we can get up now." Ukitake finally said, noticing that all three of them were flopped on the office floor.

They looked at him sheepishly, as all three of them rose.

Ukitake was dusting his sleeves off, when Kiyone suddenly screeched.

"_Taichou, what happened to your haori?!_"

He looked up at them strangely. Sentarou was at a stand-still gaping at something on him, while Kiyone was pointing shakily at his chest.

Looking down at it himself, he found a huge blue-black ink stain on the white cloth over his chest. It was still spreading and making weird patterns on the snow white fabric that almost resembled flowers.

If he hadn't been the man he was, he would've been on quite a curse rant, but instead all he did was sigh loudly.

"Thank God, it wasn't sweat." he murmured to himself. He _knew _there was no way he sweated _that_ much.

To his subordinates he just smile cheerfully.

"Nothing a little bleach won't due away."

* * *

"Have you checked everywhere?" Ukitake asked, a little hysterically as he rubbed at the ink stain. 

Sentarou cursed as he banged his head on the top cabinet, while Kiyone shut the drawer.

"Yes sir, we checked every single place in this kitchen. There's no bleach left."

"Oh dear," Ukitake said, no longer cheerful, and propped his elbow on the kitchen table in worry.

"Don't you have any spares, sir?" Sentarou inquired, after finally extracting his head from the cabinet.

Ukitake shook his head despairingly

"No, Soutaichou said that we'd only get one haori," he stroke his chin thoughtfully, "Something about how Kenpachi was repeatedly getting entrails all over it."

Kiyone and Sentarou looked at each other.

"I guess I'll just have to explain this to Sensei somehow." he sighed, pressing his fingers to his forehead. Somehow, he knew his teacher wasn't going to believe that the ink had spilled when he had catapaulted from his desk to save a antique vase.

His two third seats gaped at him in shock.

"What are talking about, Taichou?" Kiyone cried, walking up to him.

"There's still another way to get the stain out." Sentarou said, leaning against the sink.

Ukitake looked at them with a vague kind of hope; hope because there was a way and vague because it was _Sentarou_ and _Kiyone_ who were suggesting it.

"There is?"

They nodded their heads together proudly, deciding now was the perfect time to impress their Captain.

"We can make bleach." they said together.

Silence.

"Stop copying me, stupid goat!"

"It was _you_, who copied_ me_ first!"

"Alright, alright, stop." Ukitake stood, holding his hands out in a peace gesture.

He looked at them incredulously.

"You think you can _make_ bleach?"

They nodded.

"The chemistry bleach?"

They nodded again. Well, actually they didn't have the first clue of making bleach, but you know, how hard could it be?

Ukitake studied them for the longest time, before sighing and collapsing back into his seat.

"All right, let's give it a try."

As they scrambled around eagerly in the kitchen, grabbing random bottles and containers, Ukitake looked up at the kitchen ceiling regrettably. Why did he feel like he was going to need a new kitchen very soon?

* * *

"Are you sure it's suppose turn black like that?" Ukitake questioned worriedly, as all three of them crowded around the metal pot, while it foamed and bubbled with the murky liquid. 

Kiyone didn't answer, while it tried to eat the yellow sponge perched on the sink counter.

Sentarou bravely snatched the sponge away.

"Uh...bleach is suppose to be white, right?"

A light bulb went off in Kiyone's head and she snapped her fingers.

"Of course!" she exclaimed and shoved pass Sentarou to the refrigerator.

The two men quirked their eyebrows at her, while she rummaged through it.

"We've been missing this!" she exclaimed happily, making her way back to the pot, holding up a carton.

They stared at her.

"Milk, Kiyone?" Ukitake inquired politely, half-wondering if she had lost her mind.

Sentarou looked confused.

"We had milk?"

Kiyone ignored him and sent her Captain a striking smile, which was nervously returned.

"Well, Taichou, as your respected, pure, beautiful mind already knows, bleach is white. So we obviously need something white to give it the color," she held up the carton of Moo-Moo Milk, like it all made perfect sense, and proceeded to dump half the contents into the pot, "Besides, milk is one of the few things we haven't tried yet."

Something sharp and heavy dropped into Ukitake's stomach.

"W-wait..._the few things_?" he stuttered, giving them a horrified look, "_What did you put in here?_"

They froze, pausing a moment to look back and forth between the stewing pot in the sink and their paling Captain.

"Errrr..." they trailed off awkwardly, staring at anything but his eyes.

Ukitake could feel a thorough blend of disturbance and panic begin to slowly consume him. He stood watching them, as they shifted their eyes this way and that and squirmed under his alarm.

"Maybe, some detergent, liquid soap, moisturizer, lotion, shampoo, and tea." Kiyone finally confessed, in a voice so low, that if Ukitake wasn't so use to tuning other noisier things out (like Shunsui's love ramblings), he probably wouldn't have heard it.

"Perhaps, a bit of takoyaki, alcohol, rice, chocolate, oil, and cream." Sentarou grumbled out as well, eyes staring intently at something two feet above Ukitake's head.

Ukitake stared back, not exactly sure of what to say. _What_ _would_ _be the most sensible thing to do?_ Easy, tell them to back away slowly, run to the farthest place in Rukongai and dump the stuff.

He didn't do that, which obviously meant he had no sense.

Ukitake opened his mouth, having no clue of what he was going to say, when he caught a certain metal pot out of the corner of his eye.

"K-Kiyone? I-is it suppose to be smoking like that?" Sentarou squeaked out, seeming to have noticed the offensive object as well.

Kiyone snapped her head up and shrieked so high and loud that Ukitake and Sentarou had to cover their ears. Eyes wide with shock and fear, she rushed over to it.

The 'liquid' wasn't really liquid anymore, more like a big clump of ashy clay. Black smoke was curling out of a small mouth and it had bubbled to such a degree that it was spilling over the edge.

"Uh...Kiyone, w-why don't you just dump it in the sink?" Ukitake suggested anxiously, when his assistant stood frozen at the spot, gaping at the pot with no small amount of trepidation.

Kiyone nodded.

"R-right, e-excellent idea Taichou." Slowly she grasped the handle with shaky hands, the metal ring embedded into it swishing wildly.

Sentarou groaned, almost hysterically.

"Will it really just go down the drain?"

"Sh-shut up, Kotsubaki. Of course it will." Kiyone shot back uncertainly, and started easing out the gray clump.

_HIIIISSSS_

Something strange came out of Sentarou's throat, and he backed up a few steps. Kiyone screamed and let go of the pot, where it slammed perfectly back into the sink.

"Did it just...hiss?" Ukitake asked, his eyes crossing slightly, while Kiyone cowered behind him.

Sentarou stared at the substance, and made a resolution. He closed his eyes, gulped, said a quick prayer, and stepped forward.

"Stay back, Taichou! Allow your _real_ third seat to handle this!" he walked purposefully toward the pot.

Ukitake gave him a worried look.

"Just leave it, Sentarou. Later we can--"

"Excuse me, Taichou, but it is my duty as third seat to help my Captain in any way possible," he smirked, despite himself, "Besides, instead of hiding behind someone else like a _shameful weakling_, _I_ shall assist you to the fullest!"

Kiyone glared at him, behind the sleeves of Ukitake's robe, "I hope it eats you."

Sentarou scoffed, but Ukitake noticed despairingly, how badly his knees were shaking.

Edging forward, his fingers twitched as they drew near the handle. Ukitake's eyes were wide with anxiety, and Kiyone unnoticeably grabbed a fistful of Ukitake's robe.

A second passed...

...then two...

...three...

...five...

...ten...

Ukitake and Kiyone had helped themselves to the chairs. Five minutes. Sentarou had not moved from that spot for five minutes.

Ukitake gave him a dull half-lidded stare, while Kiyone propped an elbow on the table and tried not to fall asleep.

A small bead of sweat trickled down Sentarou's brow, and he narrowed his eyes at the annoyance. He just had to move his hand a few more centimeters.

Finally, Ukitake stood up, "Sentarou, I think you've proven tha--"

He was cut off, when a sudden horrifying rumble vibrated through the room.

Kiyone immediately snapped alive, and sent her Captain an anxious look, "Ta-taichou?"

All three pairs of eyes darted to the pot, that was now choking up enough smoke to engulf the whole room. The shelves quivered wildly, leftover bottles went tumbling all over the place, the pantry door flew open, and the yellow sponge flopped onto the floor.

There was a moment of deafening silence. Then the three erupted into chaos.

"Taichou, please, get to the door, the door!" Kiyone screamed, flying out of her seat and yanking her flustered Captain by the arm to the only exit.

Sentarou whirled around, just missing the greenish glow the lump was starting to emanate, "Go Taichou, escape! It's gonna explode!" he started sprinting after them, when he lost his footing on the slippery sponge and went surging forward.

"Holy shit, Kotsubaki!" Kiyone screeched, forgetting her language, and Ukitake had just enough time to turn his head before Sentarou went crashing into them.

"WHOA!" the three easily broke through the poor defenceless sliding door, and landed in a dogpile on the narrow hallway floor.

"Taichou!" Kiyone screamed in horror from her place at the top and shoved Sentarou aside like yesterday's newspaper. Ukitake groaned slightly, from the breathless impact against the wooden floor, and the combined weight from his two subordinates against his back.

"Taichou!" They screamed again, simultaneously, and tried pushing each other aside to offer their Captain a hand up.

"You'll cause the Captain more harm!"

"_Excuse me?_ I seem to remember, _you_ crashing into _us_!"

"Not now, you two!" Ukitake interrupted urgently, having stood up by himself. His eyes flickered toward the kitchen.

Kiyone followed his gaze, and added worriedly, "Taichou, it's gonna blow!"

Sentarou bit his lip, "Aw, man. It might take out the whole compound!"

Ukitake's face suddenly smoothed over, "Calm down, you two. We have to evacuate everyone in a calm and organized manner."

* * *

"HOLY CRAP! RUN, YOU BOOGERS!" Sentarou shouted as loud as his lungs would allow, as he burst into the many offices and barracks. 

"IF YOU WANT TO LIVE, MOVE YOUR BUTTS!" Kiyone screamed following right behind him.

"YOU'LL DIE HERE! LEAVE, IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE!" Ukitake lastly called.

Now, as many could imagine how absolutely confused the thirteenth division members were. Why exactly were their top three officers running around like absolute lunatics?

"I just knew Ukitake-taichou was going to crack one day after working with those two for so long." One random member told another random member, and shook his head in lament.

"WHY AREN'T YOU IDIOTS RUNNING?" Sentarou shouted, as they passed by the room for the fourth time.

"IF YOU DON'T RUN NOW, YOU'LL ALL BE IN SERIOUS DANGER!" Ukitake pleaded, skidding to a stop at the doorway.

The members gave him puzzled looks. "Taichou, what is it that's so _dangerous_?"

Kiyone popped her head in behind Ukitake. "WHAT DO YOU THINK, YOU MONKEYS?! SENTAROU TRIED TO MAKE BLEACH AND--"

"_WHAT_?" Sentarou screamed incredulously, coming back over to the doorway.

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO SUGGESTED IT!"

"NO, I THINK THAT WAS YOU!"

The argument didn't continue further, as the members were suddenly up on their feet and making a mad scramble out of the compound.

Shelves were pushed over, desks overturned, and vases shattered. _Why did we bother to clean anything, if it was just going to all get destroyed at the end?_

Kiyone and Sentarou tackled a few loitering people out of the entrance. They landed in a tangle of arms and legs on the green grass.

"Damn! No more time!" Ukitake shouted, and showing some surprising strength, picked up the last few people and literally threw them out of the building and onto the courtyard, before following suit.

* * *

In a random district of Rukongai, the thirteenth division cook hummed a catchy tune, and held his bag of groceries closer. He paused as a tremor shook the ground, and his eyes met the gigantic mushroom cloud. 

To say the least, he wasn't at all surprised it came from his division's general area.

Dropping the groceries on the floor carelessly, he reached into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone. Dialing in a calm motion, he held the phone to his ear and waited, before saying...

"Dr. Kusajima? This is Mouri Heiji. I'm calling to schedule another therapy session?"

* * *

"Oh my, how am I suppose to explain this to Heiji?" Ukitake brushed his chin in distress, while the division members searched through the charred wreckage for anything to salvage. Thankfully, the explosion hit the west side of the compound (meaning that his precious antiques were safe), the hallways were singed slightly, there wasn't even the slightest chance that anyone thought the sliding doors would make it, but the kitchen had been completely obliterated. 

Rubble and debris was everywhere, the entire roof had been blown off, allowing the blue cloudless sky to stare down at them, and shattered containers, glass, and metal blanketed the scene.

"Taichou, please accept my deepest apologies! I, from the bottom of my heart, have never been so regretful for anything in my life!" Sentarou shouted in his left ear.

Ukitake winced at the sound, "Sentarou, I've already accepted seven times. I understand, you can stop repeating yourself."

"Oh Captain, if only I had been more helpful, more wise! I am a hundred times more regretful!" Kiyone shouted in his right ear.

Ukitake sighed, and tried not to ponder why he hadn't gone deaf yet after all these years.

"Kiyone, it's all right."

"_No, Taichou! _You don't have to hide it and sully your pure untarnished mouth with lies! I AM UNFORGIVABLE! I AM UNREDEEMABLE! I AM A MONSTER!"

"DEFINETELY NOT AS MUCH OF A MONSTER AS I AM, TAICHOU!" Sentarou screamed, glaring at Kiyone from across Ukitake.

Kiyone narrowed her eyes, a vein appearing on her temple, "I AM THE MONSTER OF ALL MONSTERS!"

"I AM SOMETHING THAT SHOULD BE THROWN INTO THE DEPTHS OF HELL!"

"_HELL IS RESERVED FOR ME_!"

"WHO SAYS?!"

"I SAYS!"

Ukitake sighed, and walked away from the two. Why were they never haorse from yelling so much?

He stopped his strolling at the refrigerator--or what once was one anyway--it looked more like a capsized Titanic now. Something white caught his eye behind one of the blown off hinged doors and without giving it much thought, he bent down to pick it up.

It was a white jug, that had swishy sound when he shook it, and felt like it was filled with a considerable amount of...something. There was a burnt up label, that was just barely recognizable. Ukitake squinted, and held it close to his face as the illegible words came into focus.

White King: Premium Bleach

* * *

Phew! I rewrote this several times and it _still_ doesn't sound right. Ugh! Don't get me wrong, Ukitake is awesome, but I find him hard to write, since his character is so overly simple. (And nobody start telling me that Ukitake doesn't curse, because I remember in this one episode he did). 

Anyway, again I apologize for the late, late, late, update! I made this extra long to compensate!


	5. Zaraki's Carefree Wednesday

A/n: (looks around in shame) Um…uh…hello again, you guys. Wow, it's been two years since I last updated…

No, I'm not dead or anything and neither is this fic. I cannot even begin to describe how sorry I am. I have no excuse for not updating for so long so I won't be giving any. I'll definitely be finishing this, even if it kills me, even if all the previous readers have already lost interest in this.

I _will _finish this fanfic.

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo.

**Zaraki's Carefree Wednesday  
**

"How about pink? You've always gotta color _something _pink doing these kinds of things right?"

"I wouldn't say that Ikkaku. I've always felt pink had a feel of underway masculinity about it. Like the beautiful Kuchiki-taichou with the breeze caressing his skin and the pink petals dancing around his--"

Ikkaku pointed his crayon threateningly at Yumichika's open mouth, his mouth drawn in a grave line, "NO. We've talked over this before, Yumichika. It's gonna be pink, don't give me any of your shit."

Yumichika huffed, swatting the offending appendage away, "I don't expect someone like _you _to comprehend the language of the colors."

The look that Ikkaku suddenly had on his face clearly stated, _You really do not want to know what I'm thinking about right now._

Yumichika nodded like he had just completely agreed with him, suddenly displaying a considerable knowledge of Ikkaku's lack of fashion sense.

"I mean, _no offense Ikkaku_, but you really must consider a different choice in color for your robes." Yumichika's lip curled slightly once his eyes came upon his friend's garment, "Black of all colors, _honestly_."

Ikkaku stared a bit at his black robe, before looking up into Yumichika's identical one.

"And that eye-shadow," Yumichika groaned in disgust, "The key is for the color to add depth and dimension to your eyes, not to make yourself look like a bald parrot."

Ikkaku twitched, "_War-paint._"

A petty wave. "Of course, of course."

"..."

"..."

"Who you calling ba--"

"And _furthermore,_" Yumichika continued, sparkly smile plastered on his face, "You really have to start putting some lotion on. Nothing will look good on you with that red skin tone."

Ikkaku blinked and wondered if he had even heard that correctly.

"...my skin ain't red."

Yumichika sighed and gave Ikkaku "the Look" that always translated into, 'You better be taking it all in, because I'm only telling you this out of the goodness of my heart.'

"My dear friend, I'm afraid it is. It is the most obtrusive red of a bright beetroot."

Ikkaku took a minute to stare at his arm, and found that Yumichika was actually right. His skin, wasn't the nice pale color it had always been. Now all he saw under his gaze was the peeling, blistery red of too many workouts in the sun.

"Damn." he said, accidentally letting the amazement run into his tone, "You're right."

Yumichika nodded in lament as if to say _'I've always been right, you pathetically simple creature.'_

_"_It is almost the same shade as your eye-shadow," he tossed in, just because he was feeling rather generous today, "Now, _don't _tell me you don't think that clashes."

Predictably, all the ingrate did to thank him was to have a vein suddenly bulging on his forehead.

"_I told you," _Ikkaku grounded out through gnashed teeth, looking irked, "It ain't eye-shadow. It's war paint."

Yumichika blinked at him in a bored manner, before letting out an idle sigh.

Honestly, sometimes he wasn't sure why he bothered. In fact, if he wasn't so certain that Ikkaku was going to get mauled by an angry mob one day for his taste, he would've never bothered from the very beginning.

The man was simply not open to the fact that only _some_ things should be worn and some _other_ things deserved to be torn to shreds, vomited on, and then burnt under the full moon during a ceremonial dance_. _And then, in Yumichika's opinion, the tailor should be hunted down and forced to eat the ashes (if he had survived one of Fukutaichou's excruciatingly _long _tea parties).

"Of course, whatever you prefer to call it," Yumichika waved a flippant hand at him, "It _would _explain after all, why you would decide to make Snow White's dress _pink _of all colors."

The vein multiplied.

"I'd like to see you say that again, you bastard." Ikkaku growled, narrowing his eyes.

The hell was his problem anyway? He hated it when Yumichika got all weird on him like this.

When he had asked his question, he hadn't really expected an actual _answer_ to go with it. All he had really been doing was throwing shit out there so he could stop thinking about how he had gone from doing his manly morning exercises to coloring princesses in his lieutenant's cluttered room.

Everything would've been fucking okay, if Yumichika hadn't suddenly gotten all up in his face, acting like he was the shit because he knew what color Snow White's dress was.

Yumichika blinked idly at him, completely brushing aside the angry vibes, "Oh my, was I not clear? I was merely stating that your taste in colors that which was applied to your decisions for the selection of Snow White's dresses more or less..." he paused and pretended to ponder his words, "_...suck._"

The veins burst.

It didn't seem to occur to Ikkaku that fighting over something like the wardrobe of make-believe women was completely pointless, let alone stupid and entirely humiliating. In his mind, Yumichika just as done well challenged him to a battle.

Furious, Ikkaku threw the crayon he had had in his hand down, almost snapping it in half with all the force he had put into it, before jumping off the small purple chair he had worked so hard to squash himself into, "You fucktard! Are you lookin' for a fight or somethin'? The hell do _you _know about whatever Snow White likes to wear anyway?!"

Yumichika observed him impassively, impervious to the glaring death eyes, "Ah, but if _you_ had such complete knowledge of the better choices in wardrobe, wouldn't you think just by her name that pink would _not _be a suitable color?"

The slight logic caught him off guard. Ikkaku blinked once, his fury slowly dissolving. "Wouldn't snow white be the same thing as not coloring it in the first place?"

"Just make it pink and shut up already," Kenpachi finally interrupted, after a long period of simply trying to pretend they weren't there.

Both Yumichika and Ikkaku turned to their captain questioningly, but Kenpachi didn't even look up from his coloring page.

"Yachiru ain't gonna give two shits about what color Snow White's dress is, you dumbasses," He continued, gesturing vaguely at the stuffed animals and blood stains that cluttered it, "She's gonna be satisfied as long as you put color on the page."

The two shinigami blinked dumbly at these words and glanced at their Captain's drawing. Oh, so _that_ explained why Belle had ended up with purple hair and green eyes.

"Glad you understand that," Kenpachi said, as if reading their minds, "stop dragging this out and sit the hell down Ikkaku."

The two hesitated for a moment before nodding begrudgingly and settling.

Kenpachi forced down an enormous yawn and tried to keep himself from getting permanently stuck to the miniscule chair he was currently occupying. He frowned in disdain at the random items that lay scattered around his feet, trying to take care not to accidentally step on anything.

Yachiru was nothing short of a pack-rat, even though for some weird reason she got extremely pissed when he called her out on it. She kept just about anything that she could get her hands on: pieces of candy, headless dolls, crayons, and an unusually thorough assortment of knives with suspicious blood stains all over them.

When he had became captain, he had made certain that she had gotten the largest room of the entire barracks. He had dealt with the blander and cheaper lieutenant room, because he had thought that she'd be able to fit all her crap inside without him having to accidentally step on something and set her off like a time bomb. Yet now, even with a gray room and a mattress that squeaked whenever he moved, Yachiru's stuff was still all over the floor and there still _wasn't enough fucking room in here! _

In fact, to sit on the poor chair at the table Kenpachi found he had to bend his knees and spread them at an extremely fucked up angle. Then he had to hunch over so far down his spine was practically parallel to his lap, just to reach the tiny plastic table that barely came up to his knees.

Ikkaku and Yumichika were both in likewise positions, though a tad more comfortable given their size. Ikkaku had spread his legs and planted his feet far apart, the only thing not keeping him from falling on his rear was the tiny purple chair he had helped himself to. Yumichika was continuously resettling himself in his light green seat, in complete denial that a chair, no matter how small, could not fit his perfect butt upon it.

His division would've cried.

They were three grown men squashed down in tiny plastic chairs, coloring in Princess drawings, and fighting over pink crayons like they were pieces of kryptonite. Zaraki Kenpachi was not thick, like many of his colleagues commonly misconcepted, and he was fully capable of realizing.

It didn't get much sadder than this.

"Damn it, where _is_ the pink crayon? I just saw it three seconds ago!" Ikkaku growled in frustration after a prolonged period of rummaging among the scattered crayons on the desk.

Yumichika finished coloring Sleeping Beauty's crown and said flippantly, "I don't know Ikkaku. Perhaps the crayon doesn't agree with your abominable color sense as well." He glanced at him with mockery painted on his face.

Ikkaku glowered at his friend, "Give it to me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me, fruitcake."

Yumichika gasped dramatically in shock.

"Ikkaku!" he exclaimed, his indignant expression twitching slightly from the effort of keeping the smugness off, "Are you _accusing_ me of stealing? I am insulted! Why would I stoop to such levels of immaturity? I take absolute offense in your words and their implications. I-"

"It's pokin' out from under your arm."

Yumichika looked down towards his right arm to see indeed, that the pink tip was revealed from under the black robes. He cursed before sniffing daintily and plucking the pink crayon from beneath his arm. He held it up to Ikkaku in an exaggerated fashion, like he was revolted by the mere thought that it had touched him.

Ikkaku scowled lightly, snatching the pink crayon away. Taking his prize, he scribbled half-heartedly on the dress, before a sudden revelation of epic proportions crashed into him.

"Hey, how did _we _end up doing this with you anyway, Taichou? Ain't you suppose to be spending this day with Fuku-taichou?"

Kenpachi tilted his head slightly at his third seat, "Yeah, you've gotta problem?"

Ikkaku shook his head once, almost driving Yumichika into the wall while scooting away.

Even cramped ridiculously at the kiddie desk, Kenpachi still managed to look more menacing than Death itself.

"Ikkaku!" Yumichika exclaimed loudly, "Look at what you did! Cinderella now has an ugly blue streak across her dress!" He pointed his index finger on the blemished page like Ikkaku had just committed the ultimate crime.

Ikkaku stared at him with an expression that could only be described as unfathomable for a full ten seconds before throwing the pink crayon he had finally managed to get his hands on, back at Yumichika. A surprised sound of indignation came from Yumichika's throat and he threw the crayon back at him.

Ikkaku threw it back again and soon an all out-war of crayons started.

"You bastard!" Yumichika screamed, his previously collected appearance completely gone, as he flung a handful of crayons at Ikkaku, sneering viciously when he saw the state of his hair reflected on Ikkaku's bald head.

Ikkaku bared his teeth at him, while repeatedly pelting him with stray crayons.

Snorting at their antics, Kenpachi returned to his book, "Suck it up and quit actin' like a bunch of pussies. A few hours colorin' ain't gonna kill you or anything."

The fighting immediately ceased as two blank stares were directed at him.

Kenpachi matched their stares in determination. There was a moment of awkward silence that seemed highly unnecessary to him, before Yumichika finally cleared his throat.

"I apologize taichou, but _who _was it that spent those two days in the bathroom with their sword?"

* * *

"_Is he __**still **__in there?" Ikkaku asked, tapping his wooden sword lightly on his shoulder. He walked towards the door, a slightly disturbed look on his face. Next to him, Yumichika stared strangely at the slab of wood. Muffled words could be heard floating through the cracks of the threshold._

_"Damn, I'm gonna miss you...yeah, I know you look great in blood...yeah, yeah, it's true...yeah he _is _a fuckin' geezer isn't he? Yeah, a sack of old smelly shit...the fuck was he thinking...not killing anything for the whole day, what the hell does he want us to do then? I know...it's alright we can go kill everybody in Rukongai after all this if you want...oh, I like it when their heads go flyin' off too..."_

_Ikkaku felt his eyes bulging in disbelief. "It's been a day already." _

_Yumichika nodded solemnly, "Indeed."_

"_How come Fukutaichou hasn't done anythin' yet?"_

_"...she said something about giving __**them**__ some time alone."_

_"..."_

_Ikkaku sighed, depressed that his captain was acting like a nine year old girl at her first piano recital. Oh well, he'd just let him get it all out of his system. They were truly only here in the first place for one thing anyway. _

_Stepping up, Ikkaku knocked lightly, before starting rather awkwardly, "Er…Taichou, you've been in there for a while..."_

_"Go the hell away! Can't you see I need some fuckin' privacy right now?"_

_Ikkaku nodded dumbly at the door, the plan that he had hastily formed melting into the cracks of his brain. "Well yeah...but, uh...yer in the bathroom and all..."_

_He was cut off as a horrified scream rang from out in the courtyard. A flurry of alarmed shouts and grunts exploded from outside. _

_"Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT! I'm crackin'! I'm crackin'!" _

_"This is fuckin' TORTURE!" _

_"It's not human to hold it this long!"_

_A bubbly giggle was heard before, "Mustachio-chan is doin' a funny dance!"_

_Yumichika's eyes suddenly darkened ominously and he sprinted towards the courtyard. A few minutes later, Ikkaku could hear Yumichika's loud, high voice vibrating the whole entire barracks._

_"IF I SEE A SINGLE THING OUT THERE THAT ISN'T GRASS OR TREES, I'LL DISEMBOWEL YOU ALL!"_

_

* * *

_

Kenpachi shrugged carelessly at Yumichika, "You wimps can keep it in longer than twenty minutes."

They gaped.

"_Twenty hours."_

Kenpachi sniffed idly, "Che, whatever. Same thing."

Honestly, he had no freaking clue why they all decided they just _had _to go to the barracks _single _toilet. They couldn't just let him have some damn time to himself before today. (_He was sitting here coloring in a Princess Power book for fuck's sake!)_

What if they were in the middle of a fight when they suddenly noticed they needed to take a piss? Were they all going to go running back to the barracks or something? (He was fully willing to pulverize anyone that did that).

Ikkaku looked up at the ceiling bemusedly, as if reliving the moment, "Half the men were already squatting behind the bushes. You would've had some serious stink around here taichou, if Yumichika hadn't threatened to slice off all of their balls if they tried anything." he jabbed his thumb at Yumichika for emphasis.

Kenpachi felt his eyebrows raising, and he glanced at the effeminate man.

Yumichika made a 'hmph' sound, looking quite repulsed by the memory and Ikkaku's crude wording.

"I was simply forewarning the men of the considerable...bodily harm that would've been inflicted on their genitals depending on their course of action," Yumichika tossed his hair back majestically.

Kenpachi stared. Ikkaku snorted. Yumichika continued to color.

"I finished," Yumichika said after a moment, completing his last coloring page with a superfluous motion, "can I go now, taichou?"

Kenpachi shook his head, "Wait until Yachiru gets back from wherever the hell she went."

Yumichika sighed in frustration, before a sudden revelation hit him, "Where did she go? I didn't even see her this morning."

"How the hell should I know?"

He honestly didn't. The pink-haired girl had burst into his room this morning babbling incoherently about Wednesday, practically dragged him into her room, where he found Yumichika and Ikkaku, petrified in their seats, and tossed three coloring books and a box of crayons at him, before prancing off somewhere.

Ikkaku glanced rather jealously at Yumichika's color-filled book, before looking at his own, which was nowhere near finished.

"Why are there so many pictures of the same people in here?" Ikkaku grumbled to himself, though quickly caught by his captain.

"Quit your whining," Kenpachi growled at him, "I'm not exactly pissing my pants over here in happiness either."

"Uh-oh, Ken-chan, you can't do that in my room!"

What happened next was a chain reaction of impressive proportions. Ikkaku quite literally jumped out of his seat when he heard the bubbly voice two inches away from his ear. He tripped over a certain pink crayon that had been discarded earlier and left on the floor, causing him to fall on Yumichika. This, in turn, resulted in the entire table toppling over and a loud enraged squawk from said man.

Kenpachi stared blankly at his hand, still holding a green crayon as it hovered above his lap, where the table and coloring book use to be.

"Ken-chan?" Kusajishi Yachiru squeaked happily, "What's wrong? Did you fall asleep with your eyes open?"

Kenpachi turned abruptly to his lieutenant, tossing the crayon randomly on the floor.

"Stupid brat," he said gruffly, though with an obvious fondness in his tone, "Where the hell did you go?"

"To finish the rest of our day, Ken-chan!" Yachiru giggled, smiling cheerily even as she plopped herself down on top of what was now the Yumichika-Ikkaku dogpile.

"The rest of our day?" Kenpachi repeated dully, ignoring the groans of pain from his subordinates, "I thought we were suppose to do this shit together."

"We are, silly! I just gave you some of my coloring books because I thought you'd be bored waiting!"

Kenpachi immediately forced himself to forget he ever heard that.

With a bounce, she landed on the floor and almost immediately scampered up Kenpachi's back to sit on his shoulder.

"So, what the hell are we doing then?"

"Let's go outside first Ken-chan," she raised a small finger to point toward her bedroom door as if he wouldn't know the way out otherwise, "This way!"

Kenpachi stood still for a moment, before deciding that he really didn't care what they did as long as it had nothing more to do with crayons and Disney princesses.

As they ambled off, Yachiru quickly turned to call out to Ikkaku and Yumichika, who were still in a tangle of limbs and coloring pages, "Baldie-chan! Eyebrow-chan! Hurry up or we'll leave you behind!"

As it turned out, Yachiru had planned a whole day of nothing but games. And apparently, she wasn't going to let Kenpachi be the only one who had any fun.

As he had stepped into the courtyard, he was met with his whole division standing awkwardly on the lawn, all with nervous smiles on their faces. Kenpachi stared blankly at the display as Yachiru slid down from his back with a giggle. From behind them, Yumichika and Ikkaku emerged, bedraggled and glaring death at each other, before stopping short as well.

"What the…?"

Yachiru smiled happily and practically bounced where she stood.

"This is going to be fun!"

* * *

"Ah, you bastard! I was going to hide here!" a man with a mustache whispered loudly as he slipped behind a bush.

"Fuck off!" the other man snapped, trying to shove him away with his elbow as he crouched under the bush, "I was here first, so go find your own hiding spot."

"This _was_ my hiding spot!"

"Well it's not anymore, is it?"

"Why, you stupid little ass—"

He cut himself off abruptly as they both heard something growl dangerously behind them.

"If you two bastards don't shut the fuck up _now _I'm going to beat you into oblivion."

With a small scream, the two men were suddenly inseparable as they clung together in terror.

"T-taichou," the braver of the two managed to stutter out, "w-we didn't know you were here, sir."

Kenpachi gave them a death glare that was practically bed-wetting, even when he was squatting comically behind a tree that barely concealed his bulky frame.

"I swear," he started quietly, before quickly turning into a bellow, enraged at having his perfect hiding spot ruined by two idiots, "if she finds us because of all the fucking noise you're making I'm gonna rip out your entrails and make you eat them!"

"Aha!" a pink head popped up from among the green leaves, "See, Eyebrow-chan? I told you I heard something over here!"

Kenpachi's mouth was suddenly a grim line as Yachiru cheered happily and the two men tried not to wet their pants in fright.

* * *

"You have any threes, Fukutaichou?"

"Hmm…nope! Go Fish, Baldie-chan!"

"What? You practically asked everyone here if they had any threes earlier!"

"Do _you _have any threes?"

"Well, yeah. That's why I asked y—"

"You've gotta give them to me then Baldie-chan."

"What? Why?"

"Because I need them."

"I need them too, Fukutaichou!"

"Yeah, but I've been waiting for threes since the beginning of the game, so I need them more!"

"So you _did _have threes!"

"Hurry up, Ikkaku. Some of us want their turn too you know."

"Shut up, Yumichika!"

"Just give them to her, Ikkaku. I don't know why you're bitching about this."

"Taichou?!"

* * *

"No, you dumb bastards," Ikkaku yelled, clearly frustrated, "you're suppose to jump when the rope is in _front_ of your feet!"

The men moved around clumsily, trying in vain to do what he said without much success. "Wait until the rope passes over your heads, dammit!" Ikkaku shouted, with another groan when the following four men all consecutively tripped and fell on their faces.

Yumichika raised an eyebrow slightly from beside him.

"I didn't know you jumped rope."

"It's a good form of exercise!"

The eyebrow went a little further up, but for once Yumichika said nothing. Turning back, he observed the scene that had unfolded in front of him with thoughtfulness.

Yachiru was giggling happily at one side of the rope while Kenpachi was at the other, alternating between amused and bored out of his mind. The men had formed a line for the jump rope, though all of them were trying to push each other to the front.

As the rope came down over whatever poor soul was jumping, it didn't even touch the ground before slapping into the man's stomach, causing him to try to jump, which in turn caused him to trip over the rope and land in a most ugly position.

"Ikkaku, don't you think Taichou and Fukutaichous' height differences might have something to do with—"

"Jump _over_! Jump _over _the fucking rope!"

"…"

* * *

"Okay, Ikkaku. Left leg yellow," Kenpachi rumbled, from his comfortable position next to the twister spinner. His subordinates had all but begged him not to play and he was perfectly fine obliging.

There were a series of groans and curses in reply, before something started to move in the mesh of arms and legs. Slowly, Ikkaku's bald head emerged from the tangle of limbs.

"I don't think this game was meant for so many people, Taichou," Ikkaku mumbled, trying in vain to reach the yellow spot with his left foot, while keeping his right on the green spot, almost doing the splits in the process.

"Shut up, Pachinko Ball!" Yachiru pouted from her seat in Kenpachi's lap, "The Real World lady told me there wasn't any limit to how many players there could be!"

Kenpachi looked down at her silently and thought that the woman probably hadn't imagined a group of thirty grown men would be playing.

"Madarame-sanseki, could you…could you please hurry, sir?"

"Stop moving! You're making me slip!"

"Damn, Aramaki. When was the last time you took a bath?"

"Whoever's hand that is on my ass has about one second to remove it before I cut it off."

* * *

"Why the hell are we doing this again?" Ikkaku asked confusedly, turning to look at the white smock over him.

"Ikkaku!" Yumichika yelled in annoyance, "I told you not to move!"

"Shut up! I'm just asking!"

With a huff, Yumichika slathered mousse onto his hands and spread it onto Ikkaku's smooth head. Then, with an extremely serious expression, began meticulously combing the white froth.

Ikkaku folded his arms sulkily at being ignored, fingers twitching slightly at the feeling of cool cream coming in contact with his skin. And then the not-quite-so-gentle teeth of the comb as they scraped across his head.

"It's a comb, Ikkaku," Yumichika said, noticing, "I just thought I should tell you now, in case you might need it someday."

Ikkaku gritted his teeth and was just about to tell Yumichika where he could go put his comb, when a bubbly voice entered his ears.

"Mustachio-chan is not suppose to move!" A kick. Followed by a whimper.

Ikkaku's eyes darted to the side, where he saw Yachiru tugging hard at the mustache of one Makizo Aramaki, who was practically in tears. And sitting next to him, was the captain.

Ikkaku felt himself grimacing at the sheer number of pink and scarlet ribbons that had been tied messily into the spikes of Kenpachi's hair. His captain's face was stone blank.

Ikkaku couldn't help but shudder. In just one day, he had seen enough degeneration of his captain's image to last him a lifetime.

"Ken-chan, you're not suppose to move either!"

* * *

It was finally while all of them were back to coloring Yachiru's coloring books (Kenpachi insisted it be out on the courtyard) that evening arrived, and Kenpachi dismissed the men. They bowed respectfully, thanked Yachiru for planning a wonderful day, before practically sprinting toward the barracks, leaving a dust cloud in their wake that had Yumichika screaming death threats at them.

"I'd say today went pretty well," Yumichika commented after, picking up some stray crayons, before giving Ikkaku a smug look, "my favorite part was the hair styling."

Ikkaku glared at Yumichika for a moment before snorting lightly, "Could've been worse."

Wordlessly, they both turned toward their captain who was nonchalantly shooting crayons into the box. Kenpachi tried his best to simply ignore them, before finally turning and giving them an annoyed look.

"What?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Yumichika said quickly, waving his hand, "we were just wondering if you had enjoyed your bonding day with Fukutaichou."

Kenpachi made a slight 'che' before his face softened slightly, "It wasn't too bad."

And it really wasn't.

Zaraki Kenpachi was a man who could appreciate a good time and recognized the importance of fun. It gave him a content feeling; knowing Yachiru was also beginning to think that way. Almost…proud.

For all her nightmarish tea parties, Yachiru was actually capable of planning a very entertaining day as well, without the use of bloodshed or swords.

_Huh. Go figure._

"Finally," Ikkaku breathed in relief as he and Yumichika dumped the last of the crayons into the box, "I think we got 'em all."

Kenpachi nodded, also tossing in his last crayon, before he caught something wrong.

"Where's the pink one?"

Silence.

And then, there was a loud groan as Ikkaku saw that the dreadful color truly _was _missing. Automatically, they both turned toward Yumichika, who gave them an insulted look.

"It. Wasn't. Me."

"Maybe Fukutaichou has it," Ikkaku offered, before suddenly realizing the absence of the high, sugary voice of the assistant captain, "Where'd she go anyway?"

There was a moment where the three looked around the place absently for the girl. Finally, Kenpachi let out a sigh and stood up from his seat. Without a word, he walked down the hall. He had gone halfway down the dark inner hallway, when he heard Yumichika calling after him.

"Please tell Fukutaichou we had a nice time, Taichou!"

Kenpachi showed no acknowledgment to that, but made a mental note to remember.

"Oi, Yachiru," Kenpachi called as soon as he got to her door, "did you take the pink crayon?"

He slid open the door before waiting for any answer and stopped in the threshold.

She was asleep, curled in her bed and still in her shinigami robes.

Sighing again, he walked inside and looked down at her tiny body. A big content smile was pasted on her face, and on closer inspection, he saw that she was holding a piece of paper and a certain crayon loosely to her chest.

"So it was you," Kenpachi muttered as he draped the blanket over her, "Idiot."

Gently, he took the crayon from her open palm and tugged the paper out without waking her. Pocketing the crayon, Kenpachi stared curiously for a moment at the folded piece of paper, before unfolding it.

It was a crude drawing, but still understandable. There was him, drawn with large black strokes, holding her hand, who was entirely in pink, explaining the crayon. They were in the courtyard, surrounded by grass and trees, and what seemed to be the whole division (one of them had a bald head and the other had two large feathers coming out of his face). Each of them were wearing smiling faces.

And at the very top in large uneven kanji was written "The Best Day Ever."

"Stupid brat." He muttered, but felt himself grinning anyway.

Maybe he'd let the old man live to see another day after all.

* * *

Again, I'm really sorry! I know a lot of you guys had been waiting for the Kenpachi one, so I hope this has been satisfactory to you. If anyone's still reading this, it would be awesome if you left me a review when you've finished!

Thank you so much!


	6. Soi Fong's Hefty Thursday

A/n: Wow, I'm surprised that anyone's even reviewed the Kenpachi story, but they were still much loved! Reviews always make my heart soar! And to answer Sk8rnerdbleach, I plan to do a chapter for each captain, then two more to wrap up the two weeks, so about fourteen chapters! (eeps, I'm going to try my best on this!)

With that said, I realized I messed up the Soi Fong moment in chapter one. She was suppose be still upset with Yoruichi, so could everyone just do me a favor and ignore that please? It was a dumb mistake, I know.

Also, I realize this chapter's exponentially longer than the others, but that's what I plan to do from now on, since some of you guys have said that the chapters are too short.

So please enjoy and if it's not too much trouble review as well!

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo.

**Soi Fong's Hefty Thursday  
**

In hindsight, Soi Fong supposed it was her own fault she ended up in this situation.

For regardless of how long she'd spent on the roof yesterday night willing for the sun to stay down, her day had arrived.

And that mission had just so happen to come for the Onmitsukidō this morning. She supposed…she had been desperate.

Soi Fong had naively thought that just because Yamamoto had stopped all in-coming missions for the Gotei 13, didn't mean that they couldn't have gone on missions from any of the _other _organizations they might've been affiliated with. (i.e. mainly her and pretty much only her).

Because for some obscure reason, Soi Fong had believed Yamamoto could be _reasoned _with.

_This morning…_

"…_And so because of the assassination of Nobu Taichi, wanted criminal and traitor of the illustrious Nobu Family needing top priority, I ask that I be excused from my bonding day and its various activities." Soi Fong finished in satisfaction as she passed the papers across the table to Yamamoto, who took them wordlessly._

_Behind her, Omaeda fidgeted uncomfortably; not really sure what was going on and being forced to stand in what tiny space the gigantic oak table had not taken up. _

_There was a slight pause as Yamamoto read the scroll, before looking up slowly at Soi Fong, "Well, I must apologize, Soi Fong-taichou. I have no jurisdiction to stop the missions of the Onmitsukidō."_

"_Not at all, sir. I regret not being able to participate on my day," Soi Fong said with impressive calm as she felt herself slowly sneaking through the loophole._

"_Hmm? Oh no, you're still doing that. I'm just sorry that you'll have to work while on your bonding day."_

_The loophole immediately tightened around her, trapping her and constricting all the air from her lungs._

"_E-excuse me, sir?"_

"_Nobu Taichi," Yamamoto stated, holding up the picture of an overweight, greasy-looking man, "Wanted for stealing some money from the Nobu and then using it to buy his rank in a rival family. Was discovered almost immediately and only managed to escape to the Living Realm because of a few outside connections. As for overall competence, he has little to none. I would not even be surprised if he ended up killing himself on accident. You might as well enjoy your time in the Living Realm with your lieutenant while you look for him."_

_Soi Fong stared at the picture dumbly, at a loss for words. _

_Omaeda, on the other hand, was being very vocal about his opinion of a trip to the Living Realm._

"_The Living Realm! The commoner with the red hair told me all about it, Taichou! They have packaged rice balls, tomato juice, things called "cake" and "caviar!" _

_The large man, suddenly indifferent about the cramp space, practically flew off the wall he'd been plastered against, almost ramming Soi Fong into the table, though she was in too much shock to really say anything. _

"_Well, it seems you're lieutenant doesn't mind the arrangement," Yamamoto said, watching Omaeda do little jigs around the room, before giving Soi Fong a sideways glance, "Are there still any problems, Soi Fong-taichou?"_

"_O-of course, sir! The idea of wasting our time like that during an assa—"_

"_Excellent! Your gigais are already waiting at the Senkaimon. Chôjirô Sasakibe will show you to them." _

_At the mention of his name, the white-haired man seemingly materialized out of nowhere, before doing a bow and heading towards the door, practically getting run over by Omaeda as he stampeded pass him._

_Soi Fong remained limply in her seat in shock, her plan having fallen apart before her eyes. Woefully, she sent her Soutaichou one last desperate look._

_The only reply she got was a warning marked with disturbingly sadistic glee. _

"_Any wasteful spending will be deducted from your salaries."_

* * *

"Are you done yet?" Soi Fong asked impatiently, her arms folded as she glared at the door in front of her.

When no reply came, she sent the door a swift kick, hard enough to rattle the hinges and elicit a high-pitched shriek from within.

"Ahhh! Don't come in, Taichou! My shirt isn't on yet!"

"Who wants to go in?" she snapped, after a moment of processing that highly unwanted information, "And why are you _just _putting on your shirt? You've been in there for almost twenty minutes!"

"I can't help it, ma'am! The commoners made these buttons too small!"

"What? That's why you've been…I swear, Omaeda, if he starts to move I am leaving without you."

There was an incredulous '_Ehhh?' _from behind the door, followed by the sound of ruffling cloth and yelps of pain as his large frame accidentally rammed into the wall a few times in his rush.

With a small inaudible sigh, Soi Fong leaned against the door, pulling uncomfortably at the too long sleeves of the black hoodie she was wearing and ignoring the nervous looks she was getting from the clerk.

She knew that they weren't use to human clothes and everything, but _geez_. _Exactly how long did it take to change into a simple shirt and pants?_

"Uh…Taichou?"

"What?"

"This…uh…t-these pants…"

"I don't care if it's something commoners wear, Omaeda. Just put it on."

"Uh…that's not it, ma'am. It's…it's a little…tight_."_

A beat.

A blink.

"What do you mean they're tight? That's the second largest size that's here!"

"Only a _little _and I don't know! I…I kind of have to suck in my stomach to…I'm not fat. I'm not fat, okay Taichou, I'm not! That's what you're thinking right now isn't it? I am _not_ fat; I am _plump_!"

Soi Fong sighed in frustration, turning to make sure the target was still there, before pushing herself off the wall.

"Fine, throw them over. I'll go get you a larger size."

As soon as the words landed, Soi Fong saw a pair of pants the size of a body bag flying over the top of the door.

"How could these possibly be too tight?" she muttered to herself as she caught it before walking towards the bargain bin, the legs still dragging on the floor no matter how she folded it.

Dumping them back inside the bin, she rummaged listlessly through piles of jeans, scowling at some of the prices.

"Two thousand yen for ripped up pants? How is that even a bargain?"

Soi Fong was determined to spend as little money as possible while on this little "trip" in the Living Realm. It was quite a feat, seeing as she had an assistant that knew nothing buthow to spend money.

Still, she was getting really annoyed by all the glares she'd been receiving from some of the other captains. According to Yamamoto, she was being accused of the "decimation of the Gotei balance sheet," or some other such nonsense.

Frankly, she failed to see any of it as _her _fault when _Omaeda_ was the one with the skull thicker than lead that kept breaking the vases she threw at him. Not that she really expected any of the idiots she called her colleagues to understand that. It was so immature that they'd glare at her for something as stupid as furniture. Who cared if their divisions were missing a few vases anyway? She certainly didn't. That's what they got for glaring at her in the first place, so _nya_!

"Taichou, could you please hurry?" a voice cried from behind the door, snapping her out of her angry thoughts, "It's really cold in here!"

Soi Fong blinked and glanced down at her hands, before immediately releasing a pair of jeans she had accidentally torn apart in her rage.

_Shit. _

Looking around to make sure no one had been watching, she hurriedly buried the shredded pants at the very bottom of the bin. Tossing around a few more seconds, she finally managed to find the size she wanted.

Seizing them, she practically had to drag them behind her as she made her way back to the changing room.

"If these don't fit you either I swear I'm just going to leave you here," she said bluntly, tossing the mammoth sized pants over, "It's ridiculous how long we've spent getting your clothes."

"Whaaat?" Omaeda whined, making Soi Fong's eye twitch, "It's not _my _fault those Research Institute bastards didn't give us the right clothes."

Behind her stoic mask, Soi Fong shuddered at the memory.

"Just hurry up."

"Yes, ma'am."

There was a lot of grunting heard inside, followed by cloth ruffling, a zipper, then an inhale and exhale of air.

Soi Fong's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

"What are you—"

"Yes! It fits, Taichou, it fits!" Omaeda interrupted triumphantly from inside, as Soi Fong heard the door's lock unlatching.

Omaeda bounded out fully changed, looking like he'd just accomplished something a lot more than simply getting his pants on.

"It better have fit," she said recovering quickly, completely unimpressed, "You're lucky the target remained here for all the time it took for you to change."

The imbecile did not even have the decency to look embarrassed.

"Heh, oh yeah, where is that sorry bastard?"

Soi Fong jerked a thumb stiffly over her shoulder.

"He's lazing around on that couch over there with his lackeys."

Omaeda squinted in that direction for a moment, before paling slightly.

"…uh, Taichou?"

"If it's something about the pants Omaeda, you don't even want to start."

"Um, no, that's not it."

"Then what?"

"…The couch…it's, uh…it's empty."

A beat. Then…

"WHAT?" Soi Fong exploded, causing both Omaeda and the clerk to shriek in terror, the latter actually jumping back a whole feet.

Whirling around, Soi Fong saw that the couch was indeed vacant now and swore, before turning to glare death at Omaeda.

"This is all your fault! If you had just _put on _your freakin' pants I never would've lost sight of him!" she screeched, too angry to realize the implications behind her words.

"_M-Me? _H-how is this _my _fault?_" _Omaeda sputtered nervously, _"_What does my putting on pants have to do with you watching him?"

"OMAEDA!"

"Ahhh! I'm sorry!" Omaeda squeaked in fright, "It won't happen again, ma'am!"

"Like that's easy to believe, you worthless fool!" Soi Fong snarled.

Turning, she stomped towards the door, flinging a random amount of money at the petrified clerk on her way out.

"I'm coming back for the change," she still managed to growl darkly, before slamming the door.

Omaeda waited a whole minute, before hesitantly following suit, still managing to pause at the threshold to give the clerk a warning look.

"She's serious, you know."

* * *

Soi Fong stalked angrily down the street, her fists balled and her eyes narrowed. Behind her, Omaeda followed nervously with his arms held up in front, like he was expecting her to suddenly attack him any second now.

His worries were superfluous.

Soi Fong couldn't even speak to him at the moment, let alone attack him.

Never.

_Never _had she lost a target so easily before.

They usually had to fight tooth and nail to get away, and even then, it sometimes wasn't enough.

To think she had let him slip away solely because she had been too busy finding _Omaeda larger sized pants_… And he hadn't even known he was being tailed!

At this rate she could forget about finding Yoruichi for a couple hundred…

"Holy _crap_! Taichou, I see him!"

Soi Fong immediately spun around, her thoughts flying straight out of her head. She looked up urgently at Omaeda, who had a hand shadowing his eyes from the sun as he squinted at something in the distance.

"Are you sure? Can you see clearly? Where is he? Which way is he going?" she shot the questions at him in rapid-fire and turned back around before Omaeda could answer any of them.

Standing on her tip-toes, Soi Fong also tried to look, but was unable to see above the heads of all the people surrounding them.

"Yeah, it's him!" Omaeda confirmed, nodding continuously, causing multiples of people to give him strange looks, "He's the one in the peasant's outfit!"

"How in the world does that help?" Soi Fong asked, shooting her assistant with a side glare, "You think everyone here is wearing a peasant's outfit!"

A few people sent Omaeda offended looks.

"He's moving further away, ma'am!" Omaeda squealed, squinting harder, "I think he's gonna turn that corner!"

"Well don't just stand here, you idiot!" Soi Fong barked, turning to kick him in the shin, before taking off, "We can't loose sight of him!"

Omaeda yelped slightly from the hit to his shin, before following, or at least trying to. It was hard to keep up with his captain even in gigais, as her petite body darted nimbly around gaggles of people.

As Soi Fong ran, she began to see the black oily head of Nobu Taichi amongst the hordes, safely surrounded by a group of men. Clenching her teeth, she had just enough time to catch a smug smirk on his face, before he waddled into a store.

She dove in as well.

"Ah! Taichou, wait for me!" Omaeda cried as he saw his captain's increase in speed, hurrying frantically along as she disappeared inside a store.

People scrambled desperately out of the way as Omaeda stampeded down the street. By the time he had finally burst in himself, he was huffing and puffing.

"T-Taichou, I—whoa!"

Soi Fong had stopped as soon as she had crossed the threshold. Omaeda skidded clumsily to avoid crashing into her.

"Oh, what took you so long?" Soi Fong asked dully, turning when she heard Omaeda flailing around behind her, "I thought you might've gotten lost."

"It's…It's because you were going too fast ma'am!" Omaeda panted, hands on his knees, "I…I couldn't keep up."

Soi Fong scowled slightly at Omaeda's smoker wheezing.

"You need to train more. How could you possibly be that tired from such a short run?"

"EH? How is running down a mile long street in gigai a "short run?"

"It was only thirty or so feet," Soi Fong corrected, crossing her arms, "Now stand up and shut up. The target is over there."

At that, Omaeda lifted his head confusedly to look at the area Soi Fong was staring at.

Nobu Taichi was again seated on a couch, while the semi-circle of men surrounded him. A poor employee was trying to convince him to get off.

"P-Please sir," the woman looked exasperated, "You can't sit on that. It's only for display."

"Silence, human woman! Do you know who I am?"

"A very confused and portly gentleman?"

"What? _No! _ I am Nobu Taichi, the great escapist from Soul Society! …And for your information, I am _plump_ not fat! "

Soi Fong gave Omaeda a deadpan look. Omaeda scratched his head in embarrassment.

"Sir, I don't care if you just escaped from Pluto! You can't sit on the displays!"

Nobu Taichi opened his mouth to retort, but stopped when he saw the woman was at her wit's end.

"Fine!" he said, getting up rather petulantly and snapping his fingers at the men, "We're leaving! This place is commoner infested anyway!"

Soi Fong gave Omaeda another look.

"It's like we've found your long-lost twin."

"T-taichou, please don't say that."

"Shut up, they're moving."

Soi Fong and Omaeda darted around the room of furniture like ninjas, well more like Soi Fong per se "darted" Omaeda was just galloping along behind her. That slightly irked her; he was seriously cramping her style.

"He's going up those moving stairs," Soi Fong whispered, as they dove behind a couch, scaring the wits out of the shoppers who'd been looking at it, "Keep him in your sights, Omaeda."

"Not again!" a voice screamed sharply, startling both of them, turning they saw the woman employee from before stomping over, "PLEASE KEEP OFF THE DISPLAYS!"

They bolted.

* * *

"Is this guy for real?" Omaeda muttered, staring incredulously, "Is he just trying to find a couch to sit on or something?"

The man was currently lounging in a rather lavish manner on a couch used for trying on shoes, the group of men once again forming a semi-circle around him. A line of woman stood in front of them, looking pissed beyond hell, clutching shoes in their hands.

"At this rate, we won't even have to kill this guy."

"Stop staring at them, you fool," Soi Fong said offhandedly as she observed several of the shoes on the rack in front of her, "You're being too obvious."

Omaeda turned to stare at her.

She ignored him, curiously lifting up three pairs of shoes that looked remarkably similar to the ones she had with her shinigami uniform.

"I like these," she said after a moment, "I want them."

"What?" Omaeda asked, before having to scramble after her as she suddenly veered towards the counter.

"Taichou, what are you doing?" Omaeda asked again, confused as she paid the clerk, "I thought you were trying to save money."

"I am," Soi Fong replied, taking the bag before suddenly gushing, "But did you _see _these you fool? They were irresistible! I was almost being beckoned!"

Omaeda took a step back uneasily.

"Whatever you say, ma'am."

"They're moving," Soi Fong said, her voice suddenly serious again as her eyes narrowed at something behind him, "Let's go."

Omaeda was then met with a face full of shopping bag as Soi Fong walked briskly away.

* * *

They tailed him to a place called 'Genma's Gaming Paradise' next. Crashes and noise that sounded like laser beams could be heard from the inside.

A bead of sweat rolled down Omaeda's temple.

"Move it, Omaeda."

Omaeda swallowed.

* * *

It was unexpectedly dark. Dark and _loud_.

As soon as Soi Fong walked in she was hit by a myriad of violent sounds, ten times louder than when she was outside. The only light source were strange glowing purple…_squiggles_ running vertically across the ceiling.

Children, mostly adolescent boys, were crowded around large machines, laughing and screaming every time one of them emitted a violent sound. Suspicious fog like substance was drifting all over the area, motley as flashes of color hit it.

Soi Fong stared for a moment, before stepping forward with slight hesitation

"Omaeda!" she screamed, barely above the noise, "Do you see them?"

Omaeda stuck a finger in his ear and looked confused, "WHAT?"

"DO YOU SEE NOBU?"

"WHAT?"

"WHAT?"

"WHAT?"

"I SAID DO YOU SEE NOBU!"

"TAICHOU, I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

"WHAT?"

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

"YOU SEE NOBU?"

"WHAT?"

With a frustrated sigh, Soi Fong gave up. Her black eyes narrowing slightly, she scanned the sundry display of obnoxiousness in front of her, before finally landing on the man.

"I found him!" Soi Fong exclaimed, "He's over there!"

"WHAT?"

Omaeda let out a surprised sound as Soi Fong suddenly walked away at a swift pace, before scrambling after her.

Soi Fong ignored him, eyes trained coldly on the target as she darted behind the closest machine to them. Nobu Taichi was currently lounging in a corner with a few other men, one lone lamp hanging from the ceiling. They were all piled on giant purple couches, with Nobu taking one whole couch to himself, as he munched on a chicken leg.

Now close, the noises of the machines and children dimmed to the point where she could make out what they were saying.

"Nobu-sama, do you really think we should be here?" one of the men was saying nervously, "They must be looking for you all over Seireitei."

"That's why we're in the Living Realm, you fool," Nobu said, arrogance dripping from his words, "They haven't even noticed my clever escape yet."

"But sir," the man wrung his hands, "What if they decide to notify the Onmitsukidō?"

There was a slight flurry of worry amongst the other men at the mention of the name.

"Ha! Like I'm afraid of the Onmitsukidō!" Nobu declared carelessly, brandishing the chicken leg like a sword, "Besides, I've seen pictures of their lieutenant. He's nothing but a fat, bumbling idiot. Nothing I can't easily outsmart."

"_What?_" Omaeda whispered incredulously, having made his way behind her, his voice quivering with rage, "Why that fatass bastard! _I'll kill him!"_

Calmly, Soi Fong reached out to snatch the giant man's sleeve as he started charging by her. Then with ease that seemed almost unfitting for her petite form, yanked Omaeda back to her side.

"Gah!"

"Shut up, imbecile," Soi Fong whispered harshly, "There are too many people around right now."

"Ugh, then what are we going to do, taichou?"

Soi Fong looked around for a moment before turning to inspect the machine they were hiding behind. It was slightly larger than the other ones with two big black speakers at the bottom. A platform with colorful arrows was connected to its base. Beneath the blank screen, there was a silver coin slot.

Soi Fong stared thoughtfully at it for a moment, before reaching into her pocket.

"Taichou?" Omaeda questioned as his captain took out a silver coin, "What are you doing?"

"The point is not to lose sight of him," Soi Fong muttered back, "This way we can still hear what he's saying without looking suspicious."

Before Omaeda could even process that, she had already inserted the coin into the slot.

Immediately, the machine sprang to life. Soi Fong jumped back slightly, startled, as Omaeda and Nobu Taichi both simultaneously let out high-pitched screams, the latter actually falling off the couch.

"_UH-OH, LOOKS LIKE SOMEBODY'S GOT __**DANCE FEVER**__!" _a man's voice boomed from the speakers, _"JUST HOP ON TO THOSE PLATFORMS AND LET'S GET THIS STARTED!"_

The screen flashed brightly with colors, before a menu appeared. Soi Fong gave it a highly distrusting look, but stepped on slowly when she saw Nobu's men staring at her expectantly.

And with a particularly withering glare, Omaeda scampered on as well.

The screen had a variety of pictures on it, including one with a butterfly that looked faintly familiar to Suzumebachi's design. Slightly unsure, Soi Fong reached out to touch it lightly with her finger.

"_ALRIGHT!" _the voice boomed again, almost making Soi Fong lash out instinctively and Omaeda running off again, "_IT'S BOOGIE TIME!"_

"Taichou?" Omaeda asked in a whine, "What are we—"

He was immediately cut off, when strange music began blaring from the speakers. The screen split into two and the background turned pink. A bunch of flashing arrows began flooding the screen towards the top, where four stationary arrows were.

Omaeda stared in bewilderment as Soi Fong quirked an eyebrow at them.

They were all pointing in different directions as they rose speedily pass the screen, with a red "Miss" appearing each time one of them passed the top four arrows. They seemed to be going by some pattern and the images were remarkably similar to the ones on the platform…

Soi Fong blinked; a theory forming in her head, just as another herd of arrows came on screen.

Immediately, she tested it out.

Omaeda watched dumbly as his captain did a few quick steps on the platform, a concentrated look on her face, before her screen repeatedly flashed with a big green "Marvelous."

"Whoa, Taichou! How are you doing that?" Omaeda exclaimed in confusion, scratching his head.

Soi Fong's eyes widened as she turned and saw Omaeda's screen.

"Start moving you fool!" Soi Fong barked at him, "Step on the arrows when they overlap the imprints at the top!"

Omaeda turned in confusion to stare at the screen and then at the platform, before it seemed click. With a panicked yelp, he immediately started moving, albeit with extreme inelegance.

Still, he managed to hit pretty much all the arrows, only missing a few, while Soi Fong didn't miss any.

"Hah! This isn't so hard!" Omaeda scoffed, though he didn't dare take his eyes off the screen.

Soi Fong didn't reply. She was actually beginning to get into the rhythm of the song, and the feeling as she moved to the beat was kind of exhilarating.

By the time the game ended, Soi Fong had already slipped another coin in without even being fully aware of it.

The machine came to life once more, spouting some random nonsense before automatically going to the arrow screen.

"_ALRIGHT! IT'S BOOGIE TIME!"_

The music that came out was suddenly much more upbeat and the arrows went infinitely faster. Omaeda found himself struggling within seconds, cringing everytime he missed one.

Soi Fong on the other hand, didn't miss a single one as her lithe body twirled on the stage with graceful ease. Slowly, her mind melded with the music and her limbs started to move of their own accord. She didn't even notice when Omaeda stepped off.

By the time the song had finished, a small crowd had gathered around her, which quickly exploded into applause.

Soi Fong started for a moment at the sound before turning and seeing the amazed faces of the gaggles of people surrounding her. Many of them had admiring looks on, while a few of the boys were even whooping. Soi Fong, unsure of what to do, gave them a small nod and an awkward wave.

"Whoohoo! Go, Taichou!" a familiar voice hooted, before she saw Omaeda running towards her, making the crowd quickly disperse in fear of getting trampled.

"You did it, ma'am!" Omaeda exclaimed enthusiastically once he'd reached her, his hands cradling a tray of…something.

"Imbecile," she said, hopping off the platform and walking up to him, "It was only a game."

"Heh heh, of course."

Soi Fong eyed him a moment, before peering at the tray in his hands.

"What is that?"

"Oh, these? They're…actually I'm not really sure, but they're hella good. The guy that gave 'em to me said they were called "nachos."

Soi Fong stared at him.

Omaeda shrugged in reply, and bent down slightly to offer the tray, "Want some, Taichou?"

Soi Fong opened her mouth to refuse, before she remembered she hadn't eaten anything since morning.

"Do I have to pay for these?" she questioned, slightly paranoid, as she grabbed a chip from the tray.

"Nope," Omaeda looked pleased with himself, "The guy said they were on the house for anyone that got pass the "Maniac" level of DDR or some other crap like that. I dunno, I wasn't really listening."

"Of course you weren't," Soi Fong said with a sigh. Oh well, as long as it was free.

And after a few seconds of chewing, she had to admit—"nachos" were pretty damn good.

"See, Taichou?" Omaeda said, grinning, "I told you they were good."

"Hm." Soi Fong replied noncommittally. Reaching out, she picked up another chip, making sure to get as much cheese as she could on it.

"Oh, by the way Taichou, where's the target? I saw one of his little servants walking out the door and he's not on the couch anymore, so I figured you'd know. I'm gonna kill that fatass right now, while everyone's distracted."

The chip never made it to her mouth.

* * *

"How could we have lost him _again_?" Soi Fong ranted, violently stabbing her spoon into her fruit cup, "This is the second time he escaped us!"

Omaeda picked his nose lazily as he watched her seethe.

"Taichou?" Omaeda said after a moment, "Could you not talk so loudly? People are staring at us."

"I'LL TALK AS LOUD AS I WANT, YOU OAF!" Soi Fong screeched in rage, practically blowing him away as she pointed accusingly at him from across the table, "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT ANYWAY! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY _SAW _HIM LEAVING AND JUST STOOD THERE IDIOTICALLY WASTING TIME EATING NACHOS!"

There was a snort heard from one of the other tables and Omaeda sunk slightly in his seat.

"W-well when you say it like that," his eyes flitted around the table, inwardly debating for a moment whether he should even say it out loud, "W-weren't you also wasting time by playing that game?"

He immediately regretted his words when he saw the spoon alarmingly going _through _the fruit cup.

"I mean you're right, Taichou! You're right!" Omaeda said quickly, "It was my fault! It was my fault!"

Omaeda practically prostrated himself on the table, almost doing a face-plant into his steak.

"You make me sick," Soi Fong muttered, calming, partly because Omaeda was embarrassing her and partly because on the inside she knew that he was right.

"Yes, ma'am."

"We need to find him. Hurry up and eat."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And sit _up, _you fool, you're embarrassing us."

"Yes, ma'am."

The next few minutes passed by in silence as Omaeda scarfed down his steak and Soi Fong pushed around the mushy fruits in her now broken cup, every now and then sending her assistant a disgusted look.

* * *

"Are you _sure _you saw him go this way?" Soi Fong asked skeptically, gazing at all the strange things hanging in the windows of shops.

"Yes, Taichou. I'm positive," Omaeda said walking beside her, wincing slightly whenever he took a step.

After eating, Omaeda had once again caught sight of Nobu's greasy black head and Soi Fong had once again kicked him in the shin before taking off. Naturally, they lost sight of him once again as well and were now left wandering aimlessly in the direction that Omaeda saw him going in.

"Well then, let's hurry," Soi Fong said, looking up towards the sky, "It's almost time to go back."

"What? I barely got to buy anything!"

"Are you kidding?" Soi Fong gave her assistant an incredulous look, "Soutaichou's already mad at you for tampering with the balance sheet and now you want to spend _more _money?"

"Mad at _me_? How is it _my _fault that you keep throwing those vases at me?" Omaeda asked incredulously, before lifting the bag he was still holding, "And didn't _you _already buy something?"

"Hm."

Soi Fong turned away from him, not intending to dignify such an idiotic question with an answer.

It was then, as she returned her gaze to the windows, that something caught her eye, hanging there as if it had been waiting for her. Soi Fong stopped in her tracks.

It was a scroll painting of a black cat—one that looked eerily familiar.

"Taichou?" Omaeda said, walking back when he realized she was no longer next to him, "What is it, ma'am?"

Soi Fong didn't answer, continuing to stare at the painting.

Omaeda peered curiously into the window as well, before understanding dawned on his face.

"Why don't you buy it, Taichou?" he encouraged, his voice serious for once, "As a souvenir or something."

"Imbecile, who would buy a painting as a souvenir?" Soi Fong replied after a moment, "Besides, it costs way too much."

Omaeda looked surprised, before he squinted at the price tag. The numbers made him visibly cringe.

"Why would I want that anyway?" Soi Fong said again, though she almost sounded confused herself, "It's useless."

Omaeda stared at her as she walked away from the window, before turning back to the painting, a contemplative look on his face.

Soi Fong walked with her eyes straight ahead, refusing to look back at that window for even a second. She didn't need that painting. It would serve as nothing but a bitter reminder of a time that would never come back. Really, it'd bring her nothing but pain.

_Really._

She had almost fully convinced herself of that by the time she'd walked to the very end of the street, when she heard a familiar voice.

"Nobu-sama, I don't think we should come here alone. I kept getting that weird feeling that someone was following us the entire day."

"Ha! Don't flatter yourself, you fool. I would've noticed long before if that had been the case."

With wide eyes, Soi Fong watched as Nobu Taichi and the same nervous-looking man waltzed right out from behind the corner.

Acting quickly, she did a sweep with her eyes of the area around them. They were at the end of the sidewalk, near a trash alley, with no one likely to come by and see.

Silently, she reached into her pocket, just as Nobu Taichi and his servant realized she was there.

"Move aside, woman!" Nobu barked, waving his arm around at her in what he thought was a threatening manner.

His servant stared at her for a moment before suddenly paling with recognition, "N-Nobu-sama! Isn't that—"

The man didn't have time to finish, before Soi Fong had popped the green soul into her mouth.

The arrogant look on Nobu's face was wiped off instantly when he saw her white haori and he started sweating like a pig.

Soi Fong calmly reached for the hilt of her sword. Nobu let out a high-pitched scream and bolted like a headless chicken in the other direction, abandoning his servant.

"MOTHER!"

"N-Nobu-sama!"

"Why do they always run?" she murmured to herself, before shoving the servant aside and flying after him.

They ran for all of ten feet, before the corpulent man went tearing into the middle of the road in his panic. Soi Fong skidded to a halt at the edge of the sidewalk and watched in almost detached shock as a large truck quickly ended it.

Sheathing her sword slowly, Soi Fong gave the scene another incredulous look, still trying to digest the fact that a _truck _had done in seconds what she'd spent the whole day trying to do, before turning, just in time to see Omaeda flailing down the street.

"T…Taichou!" he wheezed, running up to her, "T…There you are!"

"Where were you?" Soi Fong asked, her eyebrow quirked. She hadn't even noticed that he hadn't been behind her.

"Oh, just...here and there," Omaeda replied lamely, before noticing her shinigami uniform, and his eyes lit up hopefully, "Did you find that fatass?"

Soi Fong nodded and Omaeda rolled up his sleeves with a smirk.

"Heh good. I can't wait to get even with that bastard. I—"

"You're a little late for that," Soi Fong deadpanned, crossing her arms.

"WHAT?" Omaeda screeched, his eyes bulging, "Taichou, don't tell me you already—"

"It was a truck," Soi Fong cut him off, jerking her thumb at the street, where a crowd was gathering like flies to honey.

If possible, Omaeda's eyes bulged further. "EH?"

Soi Fong shrugged carelessly, and started to walk away "We're leaving."

"Ah, wait, Taichou!" Omaeda said, also turning as she walked pass him, "Don't you want this?"

Soi Fong gave him a confused sideways glance.

"Well, I thought you'd want this," Omaeda said hesitantly, before bringing his hand, (which she just realized he'd been holding behind his back) up front. Soi Fong's eyes widened.

It was the painting.

Without really thinking, Soi Fong walked back to him and took it from his hand. Gently, she unfurled it to reveal the picture of the black cat. Soi Fong stared up at her assistant.

"How did you pay for this?"

Omaeda looked slightly uncomfortable at the words.

"Uh…well…" he started awkwardly, a big hand reaching up to scratch his head, "I kinda… brought some of the money my old man gave me with us."

Omaeda's poor, abused shin was then kicked for the third time that day.

"You idiot! Why didn't you tell me that in the first place? We could've gone back without using any of the Gotei 13's money at all!"

"OW! Aw, you're awful, Taichou! And after I just used it to buy you that painting!"

"Hm. Shut up, you fool." Soi Fong said, turning around again, "Hurry up and open a portal."

"Yes, ma'am." Omaeda mumbled, giving up and running in front of her.

As Soi Fong waited, she couldn't help but let a small smile escape her as she held the painting close to her chest. So…even someone like Omaeda could be generous too.

_That_ certainly was new.

* * *

"What the? What is this stuff in my ha…"

"Oh, hey, Taichou. Ya know, those nachos were good, but I'd still say rice crackers can kick their ass anyday."

"_Omaeda_, what have I told you about standing behind me when you're eating?"

"…you told me something about it?"

"OMAEDA!"

"Ahhh! Wait, Taichou, what about the balance sheet? Wait, wait, NO—"

_CRASH_


End file.
